Voyage To Xanadu

Voyage to

Xanadu

Book One by

Andrew Magnus

PublishAmerica Baltimore

© 2005 by Andrew Magnus. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal. First printing

ISBN: 1-4137-6371-5 PUBLISHED BY PUBLISHAMERICA, LLLP www.publishamerica.com Baltimore Printed in the United States of America

For the wild dreamers.

Prologue: Dawn The Past It was a dream…or was it? The five-year-old boy stood on the edge of a field, staring into the dark woods. Twilight was fading into night. Gently, the sounds of the gurgling brook echoed from out of the forest, and a summer’s breeze blew through the leaves, carrying a sweet scent. A light grew in the woods, at first small and distant, but then brighter; and closer it came. Fearful, the child backed away from the edge of the woods as the light formed into a glowing being that seemed to glide between the trees, approaching ever closer to the frightened youth. The full moon rose quickly in the east as the being stopped before the child. “Be not afraid,” said the being. To the child, it resembled a man–stately in form, with a flowing beard. The being leaned down, saying, “I will not hurt you. I have come to give you news.” The child stared in wonder at the being, who was now kneeling in the tall grass of the field. The being smiled warmly, and the child no longer felt fear, but a sense of love that up until now was unknown to him. “My child,” the being said, “the time will come when I will return to you and call on you to perform a task. You must be unwavering in your acceptance. You will not understand everything I tell you now, nor will you remember the details of this vision, but I still must show you what is to come. When the time is right, you will know what you must do.”

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The moon was high in the starry sky. Like the lyrics to some longforgotten melody, a voice seemed to carry a short rhyme upon the wind: In Xanadu, did Kublai Khan a stately pleasure dome decree, Where Alph, the sacred river ran through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. A lone metal bird–the child’s father told him it was called an airplane– soared past the moon. The child wondered where it was heading. When the young boy turned around, he saw that he, too, was far above the land. His heart pounded quicker and he was overcome with fear. “Do not be afraid,” the being consoled. “I am with you. Witness. Even though you may not understand, witness. Let the image etch itself into your mind’s eye for you to remember when the time is near.” The being gestured to the planet below. The child could see the oceans, the clouds, the land…it all was so strange to him. The child believed it to be a large ball, just out of reach, colored and decorated like he had never seen before. Suddenly, a bright light flashed from underneath a cloud.Then another. And another. The flashes came in such rapid succession that it began to unnerve the boy. What’s going on? “The future.” The voice of the being was thoroughly grave when it responded, and although the child was only six years old, he knew that what was happening on that beautiful ball before him was not good. “We should look closer at what has happened below.” I don’t know if I want to. “I understand, but we will still see.” In a flash, the scene changed. Fire consumed the land, and the sky was brown and gray. Some creatures still scoured the land, searching for anything to help them survive. The boy recognized the landscape–he was back at his house, but the house was no more. All that remained was the scorched landscape and a tension in the background, like a scream waiting to tear through the atmosphere. No more! No more! “No more! No more!” The boy screamed “no more” 6

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over and over again like a mantra. The father burst through the door in a panic. “Henry! What’s wrong?” “No more! No more! No more!” The child’s eyes were squeezed shut, and he continued to scream his simple prayer of protection. The man ran up to the child and picked him up out of bed. He held the boy tight. “It’s okay, Henry. Everything’s fine.” Muffled sounds of sniffles came from the child, his face pressed into his father’s chest. “It was horrible, Daddy!” “Easy now…” The father soothed the terrified child as best as he could. He sat down in the small bed and placed the child next to him, who was still sniffing and wiping his eyes. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?” “Bad nightmare,” the boy blurted. The father looked out the window to the field beyond, to the forest that hid the stream. Light was breaking in the east as dawn approached. He turned back to the child and held him close. “Tell me…” --The nightmare was long gone, replaced by the warm, golden glow of the afternoon sun. The child played in the field, chasing the seagulls around and laughing as they fled from him. His long, wavy brown hair floated as he ran (his father called it “the rat’s nest” and often commented on getting it cut, but his mother thought his hair was beautiful and wouldn’t have it). He stopped and watched their flight, awed by their grace in the sky. He sometimes wished he could fly like that. “Henry!” His father called from the house. “Time for dinner!” “Yay!” The boy ran up the path and into the house. He blasted through the kitchen, almost bowling his mother over. “Slow down, Henry!” the mother warned. She carried the steaming casserole out into the dining room, where the father and Henry were already sitting, waiting for the food. The mother smiled at the child and placed the meal in the center of the rustic wooden table. She picked up a large serving spoon and scooped some of the noodle casserole on to the child’s plate. She then proceeded to fill her husband’s plate as well. “Did you have fun today?” the father asked. 7

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“Uh-huh.” “How was school?” “Okay.” The child fidgeted at the table, waiting for permission to begin eating. “Go ahead and start,” the mother conceded. After Henry had a mouth full of casserole, she added, “But don’t talk with your mouth full.” “Mmph.” The mother finally sat down and served herself. She smiled as the three ate in quiet–of course, Henry was busy stuffing his mouth with food. “Slow down, Henry, or you’ll get a tummy ache.” The boy looked up from his plate, its contents almost completely eaten. “Sowwy,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food. The father watched his son purposefully. “Did they give you any assignments to do for tomorrow?” he probed. Henry shrugged. “Yeah.” He spooned in another mouthful of food. “And?” Henry swallowed down his food. “I have to tell the class what I’d like to be when I grow up.” His father sat there, waiting for further information while Henry just simply wolfed down his food. “And?” he finally asked again. “I donno,” Henry conceded. “Firefighter, maybe. I donno.” He felt, though, there was something else. The doorbell rang. Frowning, the father got up from his meal. “Who could that be during the dinner hour?” He tromped out of the dining room, mumbling about being interrupted during his meal. Henry heard the door open. His father’s voice carried quietly through the house. Then he heard a second voice that was familiar. The boy looked anxiously at his mother. “What?” “It’s Scotty!” Henry was just about to scoot out of his chair when his mother stopped him. “You can go out and play after dinner, Henry.” Henry slinked back into place, brooding. “Okay, Mom.” The father walked back in. “It’s Scotty,” he reported. “I told him you’d 8

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be out in a half hour, okay?” He nodded to the child. “Okay. Thanks, Dad.” “Just you finish your meal,” he replied, sitting back down at his place at the table. “And don’t wolf it. You’ll get sick.” The family ate in silence for several more minutes. Dessert came and went, which Henry also ate quickly. Once finished, Henry stared eagerly at his father. The man waved his hand at the boy. “Go ahead,” he said, sipping his coffee. “Be careful.” “I will. Thanks, Dad.” The boy slid out of his chair and headed out of the dining room. But, before he crossed the threshold into the hallway, he stopped and turned to his father. A thought had been floating around in Henry’s mind all day, and he had no idea why. It just stuck, and the urge persisted even through dessert. He did know what he wanted to be when he grew up. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about it at the moment, but he did. “Dad?” “Yeah?” The boy was silent for a moment, but only for a moment. “I want to be an astronaut.” === Twenty-two years later. Henry sat at the cafe table, staring at his hard hat. He frowned and wiped some sweat off of his brow. Sweat matted his thick, brown hair. The summer had proven to be unusually hot for New England, and Henry didn’t like humid heat. But there was little he, or anyone, could do about it but bear it out. He had a cold beer handy to help cool his insides, so he felt he would manage the heat wave–for a little while, anyway. He rocked the hard hat back and forth in front of him, absently listening to the rolling sound it made on the plastic table top. Long way from astronaut, he thought to himself. He occasionally would look up to watch the scantily clad people walk by; some of them looking into windows of shops that once could very well have been brownstone apartment buildings. “Henry?” 9

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The man cocked his head. Familiar voice…but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He looked around for the source of the voice. Two tables away sat a lone man with platinum blond hair. He waved frantically. He picked up his drink and worked his way over to Henry. Henry frowned. He recognized the man now, but just barely. “Scott…” “Hey!” Scott sat down at the table, across from Henry. “Long time no see! Funny us meeting up like this. Last time we saw each other, you were gunning for the Air Force Academy, trying to become an astronaut.” He gestured to the hard hat. “What happened?” Henry sighed. He didn’t like talking about it, even to his childhood friend. “My eyes weren’t good enough to be a pilot.” “Oh.” Scott’s face remained blank. “Sorry to hear that. So you got into construction?” Henry nodded, feeling a little numbed by the discomfort of the situation he was now in–trying to explain the past eight years to a friend he hadn’t seen for that entire period. “Engineer. It was my second choice. I spent some time in the Navy, working with the Seabees.” “How did that go?” “It went well. I made lieutenant, got out, went through a couple crap jobs, then hooked up with this firm.” He gestured at the blue and red logo on the hard hat. “Ah. Don’t know much about them.” “Neither did I. I just marched in, handed in my resume…I guess they were impressed by the guts I showed and hired me.” Scott tried to restrain a laugh. “What?” Henry frowned and crossed his arms. “You? Guts? No offense, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you tend to be a little wishy-washy.” Henry’s mouth twisted–Scott was right. Most of the time, Henry would waffle in making a decision. He never felt he had much confidence. But…“When I want something, I go get it. Remember Lisa?” “Oh, yeah!” Scott leaned back, bemused. “God, for a while there I thought her parents were going to put out a restraining order on you. But she gave in and went with you to the prom. I guess I heard she actually enjoyed your company. Did you two ever keep in touch?” 10

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Henry shook his head. “Went to college and never kept in touch.” “You’ve always been horrible at that,” Scott commented, grinning broadly. “I felt lucky…no, no…” He waved his hands around. “Honored…to even get a letter from you over the past eight years.” Henry frowned, his ego bruised. “I sent a Christmas card every year…” “Ooh! Christmas card! Your childhood friend rates right up there with your weird uncle!” Scott shook his hands in the air. “I’m so impressed by how much of a friend I must be to you.” “Well, you are weird, so I guess that would explain a few things.” Henry winked and took a drink of his beer. “Yeah, like you’re Mr. Normal. Oop!” Scott looked down at his beeper. “What?” “I gotta go. Sorry, dude.” “What are you doing, then?” “Going for my doctorate in computer engineering.” “You’re kidding.” “Nope.” Scott got up from the table. He fished around in his wallet and tossed a business card at Henry. Henry picked up the card and looked at it. “Professor’s assistant?” “That’s my boss now. “ He gestured at the pager. “I’m doing some research work in Boston before I head back up to Maine. He tells me if things go right, I might have his job in a few years. He intends on retiring soon.” Scott changed the subject. “Your parents still live outside of Orton?” Henry nodded. “My father, anyway. My mother passed away two years ago.” He stared at the table. “Oh.” Scott stood there for a moment. “Sorry to hear that.” He shook his head wildly and smirked. “God, the world sure has shit on you, hasn’t it?” “Meh.” Henry shrugged and took another drink. “Well, take care. I’ll keep in touch with you if you keep in touch with me. Deal?” “Deal. Take care.” Scott waved and walked up to the waiter to deal with his bill. Henry stared at the brown bottle and frowned. He wanted to tell his friend more, but this wasn’t the time or place. He turned and watched his friend of over twenty years walk down the street towards the skyscrapers. He then 11

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turned back to his beer, then looked at his watch. Six-fifteen. No place to go tonight, really. Henry quickly fought down that feeling again–the feeling of purposelessness. Seeing Scott didn’t help Henry’s battle against the dark monster, and having him talk about Henry’s lost dreams only added to the problem. --Daydreaming, Henry walked across the open lot, looking out over the water of the river to the buildings beyond. The sun shone brightly in the midday sky, and several large cumulus clouds silently sailed overhead. A warm breeze blew, smelling sweet of flowers and greenery. The light of the sun played upon the ripples on the water of the river, and the man felt all was well. His mind was at peace, at least for now. Before him was an old, run-down warehouse. It was attached to a larger string of warehouses where the construction firm he worked for was located. He had heard rumors that homeless people lived in there at one time, but were chased out by the police less than a month ago. Of course, that didn’t mean the homeless people wouldn’t return. He had heard that when the police had raided the building, there had been a lot of drug paraphernalia lying everywhere, particularly crack pipes. One of the superintendents had been available and on site when the shakedown had taken place, and that was how Henry had obtained his information. He wondered about the building and what was inside. Drawn by some strange, morbid curiosity, he walked towards the building, careful not to disturb anything. He walked into the shadow of the bleak structure and peered into the dim light beyond. A lot of broken equipment was inside, among other junk: old fluorescent light bulbs, boxes, crates, parts, and one beat-up pick-up truck, sitting quietly in the middle of the warehouse. Most notably, there were blankets and clothing strewn everywhere. Nobody was inside, though, as far as the young man could tell. “Hey,” someone said from behind. The man turned around to see one of the superintendents standing fifty feet 12

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away, looking at him. “Hey,” Henry returned. “Quite a mess, isn’t it?” the superintendent said as he approached the large open door of the warehouse. He turned back to the chaos within and nodded. “Anyone still live in here?” “I think so…I heard there’s a guy named Frank who frequents this place. Pretty slippery fellow…every time someone approaches the building, he just disappears. Probably afraid the police are going to come again. As long as he keeps away from the drugs, he shouldn’t have anything to worry about. But I think he is just a boozer. Man, I tell you, when the cops first raided the place…” The superintendent rambled on about the events after the raid, but something else had grabbed the young man’s attention. There were two lone figures, just a few feet to the left of the entrance…they were toys of some kind. Two stuffed animals of a strange design…they were mounted on sticks, which were weighted by green blocks underneath, designed to keep the toys upright. One was a rabbit, dressed in a green suit, and the other was a goose in a flowery pink dress. Their arms and wings appeared as if they were ready to embrace the man. The image conjured up strange feelings in the back of the man’s mind–something long ago and forgotten–an age when things were simpler and innocent. He pictured children playing with the toys–he could see the merriment in the children’s’ eyes, and for a moment, it was as if the toys showed merriment as well. The toys stood watch over the children as they played and dreamed… Dreamed. Something was wrong. Snapped back to reality, the young man could see that these toys had been tossed to the side–they were just barely upright, having been thrown on top of a pile of trash. Their fake fur and feathers, as well as their clothing, were covered in what could very well be years of grime. The goose had a boot print on its dress. Their arms and wings were still stretched wide open, but not in welcome–stretched wide open in fear, in despair, and in loss. The children had grown up long ago, and the dreams they and these toys had were discarded, just like the toys themselves. Slowly, a tear started to form in the man’s eye. Now thoroughly appalled by the disturbing display, he sharply turned around and retreated back to the light of the sun. The superintendent, 13

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interrupted by the abrupt act of the man, turned and called after the man. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” The superintended looked concerned, and continued to call out. “Henry? Are you all right?” The man withdrew quickly back into the open lot, trying to force down the desperate emotion that was struggling to surface. Those stuffed toys, they were a symbol. A symbol of all the joys lost in life because someone had been cast away and forgotten, just like those toys. Dreams that had been shattered. He looked back up into the afternoon sky… A part of him wanted to scream out at the universe. He, too, had dreams. Dreams that could never come true for him anymore. He saw those representations of others’ lost dreams, and it brought him crashing down to Earth. How many others out there had their dreams destroyed by circumstances they couldn’t prevent? He vowed to himself, if he could ever find a way, to latch on to whatever dream would come and never let it go. He’d die first before losing his dreams again. And maybe–just maybe–he could help others do likewise. But how? === Two years later. Henry scanned the mottled gray surface of what once was his desk. The last box to be packed sat in the chair, half filled with various professional papers. Sighing, and seeing nothing left to pack and nothing else to pull off of the three cloth-like walls surrounding him, he picked up the box and turned around, ready to put the last of his belongings in the car. He stopped short to see one of his former co-workers there. “So, what are you going to do with yourself, anyway?” Henry shrugged and adjusted the weight of the box in his hands. He had heard that question too many times. So, what are you going to do with yourself, then? Elizabeth, a long-time friend of his, had asked the question when he had told her of his plans. Go into business with my father and a family friend. We’ll be doing general contracting. Building houses. That kind of thing. 14

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Of course, he had done so many different things in the years since college. First, an officer in the Navy for four years, then tried his hand in middle management for a couple months before that bored him. Worked in accounting for another eight months before he told his manager what he thought of his behavior, then got promptly fired. For the past two years, he had been working with this construction company, having finally found a job that came close to using his degree from college. But even this didn’t suit him anymore. He hated the city, and knew he’d be happier in the country. Hadn’t he thought something similar before? The Navy was fine, but he wanted to be able to stay in one spot and not be overseas for months on end. Not that he hated the adventure. He just didn’t feel Navy life was what he wanted to do. The middle management position was nothing more than pushing papers. Accounting was worse. Every place he had worked, he found something wrong. With the job he was leaving now, it was the location–being in the city. He honestly couldn’t figure out what it was he exactly wanted. So Elizabeth’s question was tempered with the knowledge that Henry just couldn’t settle down. When she heard his answer, she had just nodded and smiled that kind of smile that said she knew better. It pissed him off. “Start a business back home in Maine with my father and another interested party,” he ultimately answered. The boyish engineer stood there and nodded slowly, taking in the information. “You know, you’ll be sorely missed here. If you hadn’t resigned, you could’ve really gone somewhere here.” “I know that,” replied Henry, “but I’m very tired of the rat race. And it’ll be a new challenge for me. Besides, I’m tired of the city life. No offense, but the people here just get on my nerves.” Quickly, he added, “Present company excepted, of course.” Henry grinned. The man snorted. “Well, good luck. I guess everyone has to find their purpose in life.” “Huh. Yeah, purpose.” Henry’s face went blank, and he stood there for a few moments, quietly. “I should get going. It’s a long trip.” “You’re leaving tonight?” “Yep. The movers took my stuff yesterday.” 15

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“Oh.” The worker leaned up against the cubicle wall. “So that’s why you weren’t here yesterday.” Henry nodded. “Yep. It’ll be good to never have to stare at this gray cloth anymore.” He plucked at the fabric lining of the cubicle divider. “I imagine.” The man stood upright. “Well, good luck. Hope you make a fortune.” “Me, too.” I’ll just be happy doing my own thing, he thought to himself. Smiling, Henry moved around the man and walked to the exit. --The car rolled up the off ramp, its headlights cutting through the darkness of night. The light briefly shone on a couple picnic tables at the overlook, and as Henry pulled into a parking spot, the lights went out and the motor went quiet. Henry climbed out of the car and stared into the night sky. It was a perfectly moonless night, and the stars were so bright he felt he could almost reach out and touch them. Oh, to touch them… Henry sighed and ambled towards one of the picnic tables, careful not to trip over anything in the darkness. He took a deep breath. The cool autumn air was filled with moisture and the fragrance of night. He couldn’t remember the last time he smelled such fresh air, and was glad to be back in it again. But to what end? What purpose was there for him to break out on his own? Where would that lead him? As was customary, Henry started to mumble to himself about his grasp on life. He mumbled about his multiple moves around the country, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He knew what he wanted, but that was impossible now. He thought he had put that pain in his past, but then seeing Scott again seemed to bring it back. The pain always came back, one way or another. He knew exactly what he wanted to be–what he wanted to do–but knew that there was no way that could be possible. And he couldn’t find an alternative that could satisfy his soul. He stood up and wandered around, mumbling about how ironic it was that he was stumbling around in the dark. What am I supposed to do, anyway, he called out to the sky. His heart felt weak and his body trembled slightly. 16

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He didn’t know how he managed to plod on through life, day by day. What was he waiting for? Why did he want what he wanted so badly? He knew he wanted to go to space since he was a child, but why? What purpose was there in that? He paced across the empty lot, throwing his arms in the air and ranting to the Cosmos about his lot in life. He stopped briefly and stared up in the night sky, almost waiting for an answer to his why. But nothing came. A tear slowly came to his eye. He sighed, and figured there was little use in carrying on about his problems. He plodded back to his car and climbed back inside. He sat in the dark, silent automobile for several minutes before starting the engine. He then fiddled with the dial on the radio. Not much came in while in the middle of nowhere. He finally stopped on one station. He felt a slight chill when he heard the song. The song had always held a special meaning in his life, but what meaning did it hold now? It told of a place where nobody dared to go. He looked out the driver’s side window into the blackness of space. He dared. But what difference did that seem to make? Grumbling, he put the car in reverse, backed up, then sped out of the overlook and back on to the highway. === Four years later. It was a dream…or was it? The mists seemed to swirl endlessly, and it was difficult to tell which way was up. There was no forward or backward, but all directions were the same. It felt as if it were moist, but warm and unusually comfortable. The mist itself seemed to penetrate everything, giving him an odd sense of peace and filling him with light. Each and every individual particle that the mist consisted of radiated its own shining light. Slowly, some of the mist seemed to coalesce into a human-like form, gaining intensity in its brightness until it became near impossible to look at. As the shining spirit became more corporeal, more features could be seen: a long, reddish-brown beard streaked with silver, a kind and gentle face that seemed to know love and pain, a flowing robe of pure light. 17

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something familiar… The being walked closer to Henry, holding something covered in a blue cloth. It pulled the cloth off to reveal a large wooden box. The box seemed to hum as Henry looked at it, and as he looked, his body seemed to tingle. “Here is what you need,” the being said, in a deep, melodious voice. Henry shifted his attention to the ornate box. Somehow, he knew exactly what was in there. He did not know how he knew, but he did. Nonetheless, he could not help but ask, since he did not know where his “knowledge” came from. Just in case. “What is it?” Henry asked. “Inside is the theory of interstellar travel and the plans for the engine.” The humming grew a little louder for a moment once the entity stopped speaking, as if to drive the point home. He did know what it was! But how? Because he had dreamed of space since he was a child? Did he still want it? Those dreams seemed long dead, never to be roused again. But that didn’t seem to matter now. He once had a plan for what he would do if he could take colonists or explorers into the vastness of space, but as he grew older…and wiser…he realized that it was too complex of a task for him to handle. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. What would the entity say if he refused this gift? Would it be taken away forever, never to be seen again? Was he wasting a great opportunity? Or was it really all just a dream? He puzzled at how all these thoughts seemed to buzz through his mind in an instant, and then decided to treat the incident as if it really were just a dream. “I…I can’t take this. I wouldn’t know what to do with it anymore. Once upon a time, I dreamed of going into space, leading people into new realms. But now…I don’t think I could do it.” “Maybe not, but this is what you have always wanted. You prayed fervently for it when you were young, and now it is here. And it is now your duty to take it. You have been chosen for this mission. You have undergone many trials in your lifetime, all of them subtle, yet perfectly designed for this undertaking. You have been trained for it, and despite your opinion, you can do it. At any rate, that is all irrelevant. It is God’s will, and you cannot refute it. The fate of humanity depends on it. “Therefore, this is yours.” He then handed Henry the wooden box. The box was about eighteen inches long, nine inches wide and four inches high. The wood was of a rich, deep pecan, with a gold “X” on the lid. Henry 18

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opened the box. Inside were pieces of paper. On one was a design for some type of motor. On another, there was a procedure for power generation. On it was written: “…small version of the AG synchrotron generator will reverse polarity of normal helium electrons. The one to one ratio of normal helium electrons to the antimatter form of helium electrons (positrons) will cause a high-powered explosion resulting in vast amounts of energy. With this much energy being created, a device can be operated that will essentially ‘pull’ a shuttle through the space-time continuum, thus allowing the shuttle to achieve great speeds. Gravitons can be harnessed from the side products of the matter/antimatter collision, which is essential in creating this ‘warp,’ along with allowing for artificial gravity and inertial dampening for propelling the ship when not using this ‘warping’ device…” The being then said, “Remember this: If the people sent with you to form a new civilization follow the ways of Earth, who knows what problems will befall you. You may befall the fate Earth is destined for. Your trials will be many, but you and the people who go with you are the last hope for humankind.” Somewhere, off in the distance of the mist, he saw another entity, but it had a bluish glow to it. The first robed entity seemed to disappear from view, as if it were never there. Suddenly, Henry found that his entire attention had been fixed on the bright blue entity, but he couldn’t recall ever turning his body to look. The entity waved its hand in an arcing motion at Henry. The blue entity spoke. “Remember God’s commandments to you. Love God with all your heart. Love your neighbor as you would yourself. And never forget yourself. Love is the key to everything. Without love, there is no life…or shouldn’t be. See for yourself.” The humming of the box began to increase in Henry’s hands until his body seemed to vibrate violently. The blue being started to dissolve into a brilliant mist, swirling and surrounding Henry. The mists began to darken and shift, and a landscape began to form: pictures of trees half dead and a sky of a sooty blue-brown. Fires ran wild across the land. Almost no sun could be seen, and it felt very cold. The blue entity began to take normal human form as he spoke. He somehow stayed out of direct view of Henry. He said, “Look around. This 19

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is the fate of Earth. There is nothing that can be done about it. This is actually a merciful end to the last and one of the cruelest chapters in the history of humankind. Nobody expects this to happen…especially in your current time. But it will happen. The people of the Earth did not follow God’s greatest commandment, and this is the penalty.” Henry continued to view the surroundings. Creatures struggling to find something to eat, others struggling to breathe in the seemingly poisonous air. It almost seemed that all living things in this barren landscape were screaming, screaming in a terrible pain that cut straight to Henry’s soul until it was almost impossible to take it anymore… Then Henry woke. Henry jumped out of bed, staggered, and almost fell to the floor until he grabbed the bedpost. He picked up a towel that happened to be left hanging on the back of a chair, left there to dry after a day of swimming yesterday. He mopped his face with it, which was drenched in sweat, and looked around the room, stunned. “Whew, what a wild dream. I can’t believe how…” That’s when he saw it…something on his desk wrapped in a deep blue cloth. His heart suddenly lurched, which augmented his feeling of surprise. He felt like his head was swimming. Could it be? he asked himself. How could it be? He cautiously made his way to the desk. He stood above the desktop, staring blankly at the shrouded container, hesitating to remove the cloth and open what was inside. After struggling with his senses for a bit, he timidly reached for a corner of the blue cloth, and with a jerk, yanked it off. There was nothing but a piece of wood he had been carving the night before. On the top was a large “X,” which he had just finished that previous night. Henry dazedly put the cloth back down, sighing. No surprise there. He glanced over to the night stand by his bed. A thick, red binder lay there, open, the pages seemingly glowing in the early morning sunlight. Sighing once again, he plodded over to the binder, grabbed the nearby pencil, and started writing.

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The Gathering The Future I May 23, 2005 Just another day… The small, cluttered office was devoid of people, with the exception of Henry, who was currently busy at his computer. The fluorescent lights cast everything in an annoying bluish light. Instead of working, he was currently looking at a web page of some theoretical propulsion device, which could supposedly allow a ship to travel faster than light. Normally, his concentration on his work was strong, but the dream from last night haunted him fiercely. He tapped lazily at the mouse, scrolling through the online document. For him, it was just another day spent dreaming. His mind wandered to thinking about all of his efforts: how many months–no, years had he spent on this pipe dream? He tried not to think about it. He tried not to think about all the vain attempts at achieving this ‘goal’ over the past several years, but his mind would not let it go. More recently, he had been trying to do the research on his own spare time, and even more recently, during business hours. He essentially owned about a third of the small contracting firm–his father owned the second third; it was doing well, but was beginning to suffer from what the third owner– Geoff Trumbull–called “delusions of grandeur.” And lately, Henry was

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honestly thinking about professional psychiatric help. Only yesterday did Henry erase all the files he had on the computer pertaining to faster-than-light research, much to his chagrin. But he had felt it was time to move on and stop dreaming. And then he had that dream last night. He had never experienced anything like it before. Henry sighed as he thought about it. Every time he gave up, something came along to prod him along, further into these “delusions.” And just when he thought he had a hold on his sanity, Fate hit him with its coup de grace. It was almost like the universe was laughing at him. But something in the back of his mind shouted no–feebly, though. Something wanted him to realize that he should not stop dreaming. Wasn’t there a vow he made? He continued to stare numbly at the monitor, as if drawn into the screen– as if it had some power over him. Or at least, some power over where his eyes were looking. It completely absorbed his attention–so much, in fact, that he was completely oblivious to his father walking in and stopping to look over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” his father asked Henry. Henry lurched out of his trance-like state. “Uhh?” “There’s work that needs to be done, you know.” “Yes, Dad, I know that. I’ll be done in a few minutes.” Henry turned back to the screen He leaned a little closer to get a better view of what was going on. “What is this?” Henry hesitated. He knew his father saw him deleting all his files the other day on this kind of stuff, and now here Henry was again, looking at new files. He didn’t tell his father about the dream last night. “Can’t tell ya. Top secret,” he finally answered, trying to force a smile. “Uh, huh. Well, don’t be too much longer on the computer. The Schmidts’ need that foundation plan by the end of today, you know.” “Okay,” Henry answered quietly. His father, knowing Henry was not really paying attention, simply shook his head and walked out of the small office. Henry then proceeded with his distraction. He stopped long enough– 22

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apparently thinking of something he needed to do–to flip through the phone book, looking to call one of his friends when the phone rang. Sighing, he closed the phone book and lifted the receiver. “G&T Enterprises. How may I help you?” he said somewhat dispassionately. Henry quickly reached over and grabbed a pen. “Uh huh…” He found a piece of paper and began writing some information on it. “Uh huh…all right…” His hand quickly controlled the pen. “Very well. I’ll have to look into the extra cost, but I’m quite sure we can handle that.” He put the pen down and listened some more. “Okay. You too. Goodbye.” He carefully put the receiver back on the handle. He then leaned back and sighed loudly. His father walked back in just in time to see the somewhat distressed look on Henry’s face. “What’s the problem now?” Henry shook his head sadly. “George Carver needs us to complete the plans for his house in two weeks.” “God.” The older man leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms. “I thought he wanted four weeks.” “He did, originally.” Henry swiveled around and typed at the computer, minimizing the window with the spaceship technology on it. As it shrank into the corner of the monitor, Henry sighed despondently, closing his eyes and trying to control himself. “Damn it,” he quietly cursed. “Well, looks like a lot of late nights ahead for us,” his father said. “I’ll let Mr. Trumbull know he needs to get that equipment ordered sooner so we can start construction. Sooner.” The man shook his head and walked back out of the office. Once his father had left, Henry grabbed the pen and angrily tossed it across the room, glowering. He turned back to the computer monitor and fumed over the predicament. Over and over again…always a new obstacle. Smirking rather ruefully, he maximized the web browser window. Clicking on a different “favorite,” he brought up his stock portfolio. In a flash, the login screen appeared, and Henry typed in the required information. And in a flash, came the news. “Figures,” he quietly said to himself. His one stock that had been up over forty percent was now only up ten percent from the price he had bought it at. Overall, he saw he was down thirteen percent. 23

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Sighing in resignation, he leaned back in his chair and switched the monitor off in disgust. He looked up at the perforations in the ceiling tile and dazed off…No breaks, no breaks…A billion thoughts of dismay raced through his mind. What the hell is the point? Why do I bother? How long have I been chasing this dream? No…not a dream. Trumbull is right. It’s just a delusion. But wasn’t there a vow… Henry looked over at the clock. Four fifty-three. Looking out the window, he bore witness to a beautiful, sunny afternoon. He figured that, maybe, the fresh air would get his mind off of this veritable nightmare. But knowing him, all the atmosphere would do would be to send his mind back into fantasy land. He sighed, shrugged, figured what the hell and got out of his chair to try and salvage the day.

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II It was a dream…or was it? The mists seemed to swirl endlessly, and it was difficult to tell which way was up. There was no forward or backward, but all directions were the same. It felt as if it were moist, but warm and unusually comfortable. The mist itself seemed to penetrate everything, giving him an odd sense of peace and filling him with light. Each and every individual particle that the mist consisted of radiated its own shining light. Slowly, some of the mist seemed to coalesce into a human-like form, gaining intensity in its brightness until it became near impossible to look at. Henry was beside himself. Oh, God, not again! The being became more corporeal and slowly approached Henry. His face was full of kindness and compassion…and a wisdom Henry could only guess at. He, of course, was carrying a wooden box, about the size of a small hope chest. It had a golden “X” carved into the ornate lid. “Here is what you need,” the Being said. “What is it?” Henry asked. AUGH, his mind screamed. “Inside is the theory of interstellar travel and the plans for the engine.” Surprise, surprise, Henry thought glumly. He wanted to express his outright rage at the situation he was in, but all he could do was follow the script of the dream, like some kind of puppet. “I…I can’t take this. I wouldn’t know what to do with it anymore. Once upon a time, I dreamed of going into space, leading people into new realms. But now…I don’t think I could do it.”

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“Maybe not, but this is what you had always wanted. You prayed fervently for it when you were young, and now it is here. And it is now your duty to take it. You have been chosen for this mission. You have undergone many trials in your lifetime, all of them subtle, yet perfectly designed for this undertaking. You have been trained for it, and despite your opinion, you can do it. At any rate, that is all irrelevant. It is God’s will, and you cannot refute it. The fate of humanity depends on it. Therefore, this is yours.” He then handed Henry the wooden box. Henry gingerly took the box. He should have otherwise been in a state of total ecstasy…but all he could do was feel his stomach turn. The first time he had awakened after this dream, there had been so much anticipation…how many times had he seen this play out now? He, nonetheless, opened the box to reveal the contents within, as if his actions had been preordained from the beginning of time. Technical documents, drawings, calculations, theory…it all seemed so clear to him. It all looked similar to many of the documents he had seen on the internet. Some were different, others were not. He flipped through them as the Being watched him thoughtfully. He had seen that one in his last dream…yep, that was nothing new…wait a minute… Henry pulled out a paper he did not recognize. As he scanned the document carefully, it was almost as if something hot was just only a few inches from the back of his neck. He could almost make out a name at the bottom of the document…June…Judy…Judy H… “Remember this,” the Being finally said, “if the people sent with you to form a new civilization follow the ways of Earth, who knows what problems will befall you. You may befall the fate Earth is destined for. Your trials will be many, but you and the people who go with you are the last hope for humankind.” In a flash, his attention shifted to a blue entity appearing in the distance. Henry immediately knew what was about to come next. Still…he had this odd feeling he knew what…or who this blue entity was. It seemed to flicker in the iridescent atmosphere, then it seemed to wave its hand in an arcing motion. “Remember God’s commandments to you. Love God with all your heart. Love your neighbor as you would yourself. And never forget yourself. Love is the key to everything. Without love, there is no life, or shouldn’t be. 26

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See for yourself.” I’d rather not, Henry thought with trepidation. But things just would not conform to his wishes. The entity disappeared and seemed to reappear behind Henry–although he couldn’t really see the entity anymore, just sense it. The “mist” shifted and swirled–dark tendrils appeared as the scene became even more surreal and otherworldly. And then, the sky was sooty and thick, just barely letting the light of the sun in. Death surrounded him everywhere, as mutated creatures scavenged through the wasteland. Everything seemed to be screaming…screaming in agony…screaming at him… “Aaaahhh!” Henry screamed as he bolted up in bed, hoping that someone–something–would come and save him from the nightmare. But only darkness greeted him. He fumbled for the light and turned it on, just barely avoiding knocking the lamp to the floor. He looked at his wrist watch, lying on the night stand nearby. “Three in the god-damned morning!” he growled. “Damn it!” He leaped out of bed and paced, fuming. How many times now? That’s the third time he’d had that dream, and every damn time it had been the exact same thing. But this time, something had been different. He stopped, glancing out the window to the darkness beyond. The faint glow of the lamp cast a pale light upon the leaves of the trees only a few yards from the house. The leaves danced in the early morning wind, as if they were ghosts. Ghosts. “What the hell is going on up there?” his father yelled from downstairs. Henry leaped, clutching his chest. His heart had already been pounding from the nightmarish vision he had to endure, but the surprise from the booming voice of his father made his heart race even faster. “Nothing,” he said, trying to deny everything. “I heard you scream like the devil was after you. Are you all right?” Henry sighed. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised his father was now up–that scream had been enough to wake the dead. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a nightmare.” Silence for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?” That was his father, all right. Always seemed quite interested in his dreams for some reason. Henry closed his eyes and sighed. The monsters dimly 27

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walked across his inner vision. He shook his head violently. “Maybe that’s a good idea,” he said with resignation. He grabbed his jeans, put them on and walked down the dark stairway to the living room below. His father was there. The light of the night light cast long shadows across his face. He looks dead, Henry idly thought. He grimaced slightly, wondering why he thought what he just thought. His father turned and walked into the dining room, turning on the lamp over the table. “Have a seat and I’ll make you some tea.” “Thanks,” Henry replied, pulling up a chair. He could hear the water run out of the faucet. Henry leaned on his arms and stared at the painting on the other side of the table. It was a painting of a ship, cast in a stormy sea. Henry smirked a little. He had an idea of what those people must be going through. He heard his father put the kettle on the stove. He then walked out. “It’ll be a few minutes.” Henry continued to stare at the picture. His father pulled out a chair and sat just to Henry’s left. “So…you want to tell me what happened?” Henry sighed and drooped his head. “I’ve had the same dream three nights in a row,” he began. His father nodded thoughtfully. “You know what they say about dreaming the same thing three times in a row…” “I know. And this dream is way out there.” Henry gesticulated with a sweeping motion of his right arm. “A glowing man comes out of a glowing mist, hands me a box filled with technical papers for a starship. Then a second, blue entity appears and shows me a wasteland with mutated creatures in it. And that’s where it ends.” “Good God,” his father replied, not exactly sure what to make of it. The two sat in silence for a while. Henry’s father lightly tapped his fingers on the dining room table and looked up at the ceiling fan. A slight whistling sound came out of the kitchen, gradually rising in pitch with time. “There’s the kettle,” he said, getting up. With a grunt, he dislodged himself from the chair and went into the kitchen. Henry stared at the painting of the ship continually, the clinking of coffee mugs completely outside his perception. Eventually, his father came back out carrying two mugs. Steam lightly rose from the mouths of the mugs. He put one of them in front of Henry, 28

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then sat down with his own mug. “So,” his father eventually said, “those dreams have anything to do with you collapsing on your desk yesterday afternoon?” Henry nodded slowly. “Thought so,” he replied, taking a sip of the tea. “And this is the third night?” Henry nodded again. “Mm.” He took another sip. “I was wondering why you seemed so incredibly distracted over the past couple days.” “It’s a big pain in the ass,” Henry grumbled. “Oh?” His father looked at him with curiosity. “Maybe it’s a sign.” “A sign I’m going nuts. I really need to just heed Trumbull’s advice–” “Horseshit,” his father bluntly replied. “He’s a narrow-minded man who is only interested in making money.” “Well, Pop…that’s what we’re in business for. To make money.” “Money isn’t everything.” But it can make your dreams come true, Henry quickly thought as he recollected his plans in making his dream of traveling in space come true. Not even half a decade ago, he thought he could make it big in the stock market. Perhaps, he thought, if he had millions of dollars, he could fund the research behind such a grand vision: interstellar travel. He had read book after book. He had spent hours doing research on the computer. He had even come to a point where he practically was paying someone to make his stock picks for him. And in the end, he had only ended up several thousand dollars poorer. That was not to say he was still not trying to raise the money for it. Henry believed his father had no idea what kind of effort he had put into pursuing this dream, but instead of saying anything about it, Henry just shrugged. “You’ve been investing all your time and money in trying to design a ship, haven’t you?” Surprised by the man’s perception, Henry looked over to his father, who was smiling slightly. “It’s no surprise. You spend your free time–and some business time I might add–researching the latest theory in faster-than-light travel. You speculate on the stock market. For what purpose? It’s just like adding two and two, you know.” 29

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Henry sighed. “Yeah, I’ve definitely given it thought. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed over it. And then these dreams…I’m obviously not supposed to make this pipe dream come true…” “What makes you say that?” “I can’t raise the cash!” Henry plaintively stated. “Money isn’t everything,” his father repeated. Henry stared at his father, dumbstruck. “What are you suggesting?” “Nothing. Nothing, but that if God wants you to go on this journey you want so badly, He will make it happen.” He took another sip of the tea. “Maybe He’s just testing your resolve right now.” Henry shrugged and stared down into the mug filled with the light green liquid. It was not steaming anymore, so he picked up the mug and took a quick swig. The mint and chamomile should ease his nerves enough to get some sleep–what little of it he would be able to get for the rest of the night. “So, what should I do?” “Just have faith,” his father plainly stated. “Only time will tell.” He looked over his shoulder to the clock in the kitchen. “Three-thirty,” he reported. “Don’t you have that trip you’re going on tomorrow? I mean…today?” Henry groaned. He was not entirely thrilled about it. He was going with an old friend of his to see another old friend of his. Sarah was supposed to pick him up at seven–only three and a half hours from now–and she was bringing Derek along. Thinking about it made his stomach twist into knots. “I need to get to sleep,” he finally admitted, taking another swig. “On the other hand, maybe I should just sleep in the car.” His father nodded, understanding Henry’s dilemma. “Maybe a good idea. Don’t know why you’re going, though.” “I haven’t seen Elizabeth in ages. She just got in from Ohio to visit her family.” “Is Robert with her?” “Of course. They’re inseparable, and they’re all good friends of mine.” “Except Derek.” Henry remained silent. Instead, he tried to hold back a frown. “Sorry.” His father took another drink, finishing off the tea. “I, however, need my beauty sleep. You can stay up the rest of the night if you want. Just refrain from screaming, okay?” He grinned at Henry impishly. 30

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“Thanks, Pop.” Henry smirked back. His father got up and walked past Henry, quickly patting him on the back. Henry listened to his quiet footfall, then heard the bedroom door close. He looked down into the half-emptied mug and sighed, silently looking at the reflection on the liquid surface. He was not too keen on traveling with Sarah tomorrow. He did not need that kind of stress right now. Sighing again, he grabbed the mug and finished off the drink. He got up and resolved to get some sleep. And maybe he would actually sleep soundly for a change. --7:53 A.M. Henry paced anxiously at the head of the driveway. He frowned and checked his watch. He hated being late, and he hated it when others were late. Not that he was totally excited to have Derek shoved in his face…again. But to see Elizabeth was worth it. He could have gone by himself, but he had not wanted to let on…to Sarah, to Elizabeth, to anybody. And he didn’t want to have to field any questions, either. Only he truly knew his pain, and his father knew as well. And that was it. Sarah only knew that Henry had feelings for her, so he could not figure out why the only time he could see her was when she had her “chaperone.” He heard a car approaching from the end of the road. He squinted in the morning light to see a small gray car come tearing around the corner. God, he thought. He backed up into the lawn and let Sarah screech into the driveway. Before the dust could settle, Sarah leaped out of the car and gave Henry a big hug. “Hey!” she said. She was fairly petite, and her dirty blond hair framed her round face. Her eyes and bright smile normally made Henry’s heart flutter. “Hey,” Henry returned rather unenthusiastically. Derek stepped out of the passenger’s side: six-foot-four and built very well. He could see why Sarah was so attached to Derek, but he bet that it was solely on looks. He had heard Elizabeth talk–talk about how Derek was when nobody was around. Sarah never told Henry the stories, but she had gone into great detail with Elizabeth. 31

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How he was usually inconsiderate about Sarah’s needs or emotions; how he would drop a date with Sarah to hang out with his college jock buddies; his short, biting remarks. So Henry got all of his information second-hand. Henry just couldn’t understand what Sarah saw in Derek–other than his frighteningly good looks, perhaps. Elizabeth wasn’t all too keen on Derek, either. Sarah backed away, sensing the discomfort in Henry’s voice. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Didn’t sleep well last night,” Henry evaded. “Nightmare.” Well, that’s half the truth, I guess. “Oh, you poor boy!” She lightly poked him in the ribs. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I almost forgot!” She lifted up her left hand to show Henry what was on it. Oh, good grief! Henry had to use all his will to refrain from rolling his eyes. “He proposed to me last night!” Sarah emphatically explained. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Ha! “Yes. Of course!” he replied, trying his best to sound enthusiastic for Sarah. And, for good measure, Double-ha! Derek finally said, “Haven’t we got better things to do than standing around all day, chit-chatting?” “I’m sorry,” she said. “Come on! Let’s go!” Henry opened the door behind the driver’s seat and climbed into the small hatchback. I hope I remembered to pay my life insurance premium this month, he idly thought as he fumbled for the seat belt. Sarah jammed the car in reverse and screamed out of the driveway and into the street. Henry prayed very fervently that there wasn’t a big SUV speeding down the street. Sarah then put the car in drive and sped away from the house. “God, woman, you’re gonna kill us all!” Derek said. For once, Henry agreed with Derek. --Henry gazed out the car window, leaning on his arm. The air was warm, and he liked the feeling of the breeze in his hair. Sarah had her hard rock music 32

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blaring, and Derek was disparaging her choice of music with as little tact as he could muster. Henry eventually tuned both distractions out and got lost in a reverie. *** An array of numbers swam in front of Henry’s eyes. He hated this job. He only did this work while he waited for someone to hire him as an engineer. It paid decently enough, but the boss was a moron. He was particularly impressed by his manager’s ineptitude when one of his coworkers completed a large project, then the manager went and took credit for the work that he apparently couldn’t do himself. Henry scanned the room. Other people were busy entering an endless stream of numbers into their terminals. He figured that he should start again as well, before the ape came around and caused him grief. His eyes stopped on someone at a desk two desks from his. He hadn’t seen her before. She probably was just hired to replace the last person who walked out of the accounting firm. She was looking particularly harried as she hammered away at her data entry. Her speed on the numeric keypad was frightening. “Yes, Mr. Gusman, it would be nice if you worked that quickly, but alas, this is all we in the firm seem to deserve from you.” Henry’s blood went cold. He turned to see the apish visage of his manager, looming down at him. “Get back to work, bub. We’re not paying you to ogle.” One last threatening glare, and he was off. Henry turned back to his workstation and typed away at the numeric keypad, filled with loathing. He had one of the highest data entry rates of anyone there. He couldn’t figure out why the guy was such an asshole to him. Actually, the guy was an asshole to everyone, now that he thought about it. He supposed he shouldn’t take it personally. But he still hated the guy. The manager was now leaning up against the new girl’s desk, talking to her in hushed tones while she tried to work. It sounded to Henry like the ape was trying to tell a joke, and unsuccessfully at that. Even though he laughed at his own joke, Henry didn’t see any similar reaction from the girl. 33

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A buzzer went off. The manager looked over at a clock. “Lunch!” he announced. “Thirty minutes. Better hurry!” Henry locked his workstation and went off to the lunchroom with everyone else. After a minute of moving with the crowd of twenty or so temporary workers, he arrived in the lunchroom. He went to one of the many fridges and fished around for his lunch. Finding it (and after elbowing his way away from the fridge), he found an empty table and sat down. The new employee sat down a quarter way around the table and started to unwrap a couple sandwiches. Henry swallowed what he had in his mouth and said, “Hey.” “Hey,” she distantly replied. The two ate in silence for a while. Henry anxiously watched the lunchroom clock. He had fifteen minutes left to wolf down his lunch. Since there was little left, and little left for the young woman to eat, he figured he’d introduce himself. “I’m Henry.” “Sarah,” she replied coolly. She continued to eat and didn’t bother to look up. “Nice to meet you. From here?” Sarah swallowed. “No. Maine.” Henry hummed. Now that he thought about it, she did look familiar. Where had he seen her before…He took a stab at it. “Orton, perhaps?” Sarah actually stopped eating and looked up at Henry. “Yeah. How did you know?” “Hey, yeah, I remember now. You were class of ’91. Do you know an Elizabeth Turner?” “Yeah! We’re friends going way back! Wow, what a small world!” She was actually smiling now, and Henry felt like his mind suddenly stopped working. His palms started to sweat. Back in high school, as Henry remembered, it was almost as if Sarah did everything possible to look as plain as possible–drab clothing, thick glasses, her hair up in a bun. She looked completely different now. He remembered–he liked her then, as a person. She, Elizabeth, Henry and a few others hung out a lot. Now… “Uhh…” Henry stammered a bit. “So, what have you been up to, anyway?” Henry gave a quick synopsis of his time in the military and the last job he 34

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had before he decided to fully pursue a career that paralleled his degree, ending up in this temporary position. He amazed himself by not peppering his tale with a slew of “uhs” and “emms.” “Wow. You’ve been around a bit. I just recently got a master’s degree in archaeology. Doesn’t really help you much unless you get hooked up with an archaeological dig, and there aren’t many going on nearby right now. Not to say I’m not looking. Hell, I may even try to go overseas or something, but I don’t think Derek would be too appreciative.” “Derek?” “Yeah. My boyfriend.” Henry felt his stomach sink like a rock. “Oh,” he muttered. “Yeah. We’ve been going out since we met in college.” She peered up at the clock. “Shit. It’s almost time to get back to work.” Henry nodded and wolfed down whatever food he could cram in his face before putting the remnants back in the fridge and wallowing his way through the crowd back to his desk. Once back at his desk, he saw that the ape was already goose-stepping amongst the desks. He re-activated his workstation and started his drudgery once more. Once, he took a risk to look up at Sarah, but he suddenly felt a bit blue and figured it would be best to just get the day over with as soon as possible. *** Two weeks later, Henry had happened to stumble across his ape for a boss cornering Sarah near the water cooler. Sarah had been noticeably uncomfortable. Henry, having the cavalier attitude that he had, immediately had voiced his opinion of the manager’s behavior, and to leave Sarah alone. That afternoon, the manager had told Henry that his performance was “substandard” and promptly fired him. His coworkers had told him that what the manager did was most likely illegal, but having found work with a large general contractor the very next day had made the entire issue moot–at least, in Henry’s eyes. From that point on, Sarah and Henry had become good friends again–although, secretly, Henry had wanted more–and Henry had even managed to keep in contact with her frequently. Scott would’ve been proud, he had thought to himself. 35

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Giant clouds of dust suddenly billowed up from underneath the silvery hatchback and into the open window, and Henry pulled out of his reverie, coughing. The car skidded to a stop on the gravel driveway, and everyone stepped out of the car. On the porch, Elizabeth was sitting in a glider. She got up and waved to the newcomers. Henry waved back and shouted his hello. Elizabeth was a short, stout woman in her early thirties who was totally into children. None of her own– yet. Yet, she always said. Yet. Good candidate for a journey to a new world, Henry thought, but I doubt she’d ever go for it. He smirked. Like I’m going anywhere any time soon. “Where’s Robert?” Sarah asked. “Inside. He got a call from work. It’s a Wednesday, after all, I guess, but we’re supposed to be on vacation, you know.” She looked at Henry. “I suppose you took ‘executive leave?’” “Something like that,” Henry grinned. Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully, examining Henry carefully. “Something’s bugging you.” Henry started. He tried to not show any surprise, but from the look on Elizabeth’s face, he could tell he was not being very successful at masking the shock. “Yeah.” He refrained from asking how did you know. He already knew how she knew. “Come inside. I didn’t come all the way back to Maine just to enjoy the weather, you know.” She smirked playfully. “Oh…” She looked at Derek. “I’m going to need some time alone with Henry and Sarah. Is that all right?” Derek stood there, looking dumbfounded. Henry looked at him…yeah, Derek knew all right. Or, at least suspected about Henry’s feelings for Sarah. “Uh…” Derek stammered. He quickly looked at Henry, somewhat menacingly. Henry, of course, raised an eyebrow at the man in silent challenge. A giant Derek may be, but he had never dealt with a Gusman before; beneath his clothing was a body, fine-tuned to do whatever it needed to do. “Yeah, I suppose it will be all right.” “Good. Perhaps Robert can entertain you.” She grinned at the man. Henry knew she knew what was going on in Derek’s mind. To the average person, her uncanny abilities would have been unnerving. But he had known Elizabeth for over fifteen years. He had come to rely on her abilities to some 36

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degree. She had even helped Henry learn he had his own abilities as well. “Come on, you two,” she said to Sarah and Henry. She quickly turned around and marched towards the house. Henry followed close behind. Once inside, he quickly looked around. He had not been in here in over two years. And then, the visit had been brief. Just another visit with Elizabeth, to catch up on each others’ lives and reminisce about days long gone. The house had changed a bit. Her mother had obviously been busy doing some redecorating. Elizabeth sat in a new couch. The upholstery was patterned with leaves and pale flowers. She gestured to the other two. “Sit. God, sit!” Sarah sat in a matching loveseat just across from Elizabeth. Henry grabbed a wooden chair that was nearby and sat in that, instead. Elizabeth’s otherwise jovial demeanor melted into a serious frown as she looked at Henry. “Things have been brewing,” she stated. Henry nodded silently. Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Don’t just nod at me, you goof. Things have been happening. Strange signs in the sky–in the clouds. The number ‘fifty’ has been popping up so damn frequently, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Then there was some wacky dream about you carrying a carved, ornate box. Had it just this Monday morning.” The hair on the back of Henry’s neck rose up. That was the night of the first dream. Elizabeth nodded knowingly. “I see you have an idea of what’s going on.” “I…” His head started to swim. For some reason, he had this urge not to tell her about the dreams. Elizabeth looked at Sarah, sensing Henry’s discomfort. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here right now.” Sarah nodded in compliance. “All right. I’ll go check on Derek.” She got up and went into another room in the house. Elizabeth turned to Henry. “Okay, Henry. Spill it. What’s been going on with you?” Henry sighed heavily. “It’s a long story.” “I’ve got all day,” she said, leaning back and folding her thick arms across her chest. Henry sighed loudly again, the agitation quite obvious. “I’ve had dreams.” 37

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Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and smirked at the man. She waited for a bit. “And?” “They’ve been…very intense. Same one, three nights in a row. The first one was very early Monday morning.” “A-ha,” she responded, a light now in her eyes. “You’ve seen the Great One.” Henry blinked, a bit stunned. “You mean, Jesus?” “If you want to call him that, yes.” “What makes you think that?” “There’s a certain look about you. An aura, if you will. Anyway…tell me more.” “There were two entities.” “Two?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “The first one looked…well, for the most part, like the pictures of Jesus you see everywhere, but his hair was more auburn. He definitely looked more Middle-Eastern than in a lot of religious paintings.” “That makes sense. What about the second?” “Never really saw him.” “It’s a him?” “I think so.” “Hmm. Didn’t see anything?” “Well, he never took on human form, per se. It was just this blue glowing entity.” Elizabeth frowned, now looking quite concerned. “Blue entity,” she echoed. Henry’s stomach flipped. “Is that…bad?” “No…no I don’t think so. In some circles, it’s a manifestation of what is called Spirit, or the Holy Spirit. Rather, a being representing God through the Holy Spirit.” “Like Jesus.” “No, different.” Elizabeth got up and walked over to a nearby bookcase. She leaned over and searched through the titles. “I hope Mother hasn’t removed it. Tell me more about the dream.” Henry nodded. “Jesus…or whatever…he gave me a wooden box in the dream.” 38

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Elizabeth looked over to Henry. “Carved with a golden ‘X’ in the lid?” The hackles on the back of Henry’s neck went up again. He turned to look at Elizabeth, and he wondered if he was showing the same signs of surprise that she was. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Good God.” She stood upright. “Intense. That was the box I saw. But nothing else really stood out from that dream that I can think of.” She sighed and brushed her hands against her dress. “Can’t find it. Damn you, Mother.” She walked back over to the couch and gingerly sat back down. “Oh well. Still, if I remember correctly, there are some Eastern mystic schools that teach about an entity that manifests itself in blue. It is supposed to be the direct representation of God in the lower worlds. No…in all worlds.” “So, I saw the Son and the Father. That’s what you’re telling me?” “Something like that.” She leaned back and sighed, rubbing her elbow and thinking deeply, then looked at Henry. “What was in the box?” Henry smirked. “Well, as you know, I’ve been very preoccupied with space travel for several years–” “Plans for a space ship?” “A lot of technical information, but yes, for the most part.” “Do you remember any of it?” Henry frowned. Something in the back of his mind…“Can’t say that I do, really. It’s very vague. You know how when you read things in a dream…” “Did you at least write the dream down? Please tell me you did.” Suddenly, it was as if his mind was ignited by some kind of fire. “Oh, my God!” “You did?” Henry nodded emphatically. Elizabeth leaned forward, now looking quite eager. “That was no ordinary dream. That was a vision! And a serious one.” “There’s more,” Henry said darkly. His face began to sink. Elizabeth leaned back again, concern returning to her face. “Why don’t I like the sound of this?” “Both entities were quite adamant that I use this technology for the benefit of humankind…or…” He fidgeted and looked down at the floor. “Or the human race will become extinct.” “Who else have you told this to?” 39

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“Only my father, but not in such detail. Should I be telling others?” Elizabeth shook her head. “No…not now. It might be too much for the average person to handle.” “Lord knows I’ve been having my difficulties with it.” Harry tried to force a smile. “I can only guess.” “But what good is this information if I can’t use it? We’re barely making ends meet at the business. My stocks–” “Money isn’t everything, you know.” Henry frowned and stared at Elizabeth. “My father told me that. Twice. This morning, after I woke up screaming.” “Huh.” She paused, thinking. “Imagine that,” she distantly said. Silent for a while, then she finally added, “Whatever you need will come to you. But you have to work for it.” “And I haven’t been?” Henry replied with some incredulity. “The road is long, and you’re almost there, but you’re not there yet.” “How can you be so sure?” Henry said with even more disbelief. Elizabeth smirked. “Just by the signs.” “What if all of my dreams are just the manifestation of my obsession?” “I don’t think so. Not if I saw a box like the one you described. You know what I think?” “What?” “I think your resolve is being tested. It’s like the universe is telling you to cling on tightly to your dreams. I feel that if this is all coming so hard for you, there’s a good reason. Perhaps the dream itself will be hard in manifesting, and I don’t just mean in you finding money, or building a working shuttle. I think the universe is testing you, to make sure you can handle it.” “That doesn’t lend me much comfort,” Henry replied, thinking about all the possible ways things could be more difficult. “Sorry. Not my job.” She smirked wickedly. --Slowly he drifts through the night sky. The moon shines brightly in front of him, and he can feel the warm breezes caress his face. All he can 40

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see in any direction are distant points of light. There isn’t a cloud to be seen. There is someone floating there with him. It is someone familiar…someone close to his heart. He tries to look, but the person always seems to stay out of view. He knows it’s someone he cares very deeply for…but he cannot say who. “I will always be with you,” the person seems to say. He looks down into his open hand. There is a small gold ring lying in his palm. He stares at the ring in curious wonder, trying to figure out why it is there and where it is supposed to go. He can sense the person nearer to him, almost circling him–orbiting him like a planet to a star. Why don’t you tell her? Tell who what? he thinks. He feels the person touch him, put a hand on his shoulder. Electricity fires through his body. It is a sensation like he has never known. The moon begins to glow brighter…it starts to shine as bright as the sun–a brilliant bluish white. He looks down and sees he is standing on a wide, sandy beach; then looks up into what is now a sapphire blue sky. The white-hot sun shines brightly upon him. Xanadu. The word sears through him like a red-hot javelin. Never has a word held as much meaning for him as that one. He cannot remember readily when it all started…maybe twenty…even thirty years ago? One lone word held all the hope and pain he could ever know. There is a sudden sense of foreboding, and he turns his head to look at something further down on the beach. There is a small group of people, carrying signs with swastikas painted black and red. A few of them turn accusing glances at him and point menacingly. Between him and the group of people, a lone phantom rises up out of the sand. It is grotesque–it is pale yellow in complexion and seems to shimmer, as if it barely existed in reality. It bares jagged teeth at him, rage burning in its eyes. It pulls out a gun… “Aaah!” Henry tumbled out of bed, trying to dodge the phantom’s bullet. He gathered himself off the floor and looked outside–the night sky was starting to give way to the dawn. He could hear the melody of singing birds. 41

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Glancing over at the clock, he saw it was about half past four in the morning. Shivers ran up and down Henry’s spine as he reached over for the clothes he had laid out the previous night. Why do I get this feeling today’s going to be a long day? --June 15, 2005. Henry banged his head on the desk, snorted, and quickly jerked his head back up. He looked around him, wearily. “Bad night?” his father asked. Henry tried to reorient himself. That’s right, this was the office. He had work to do. Not like he had a good night’s sleep or anything. Swastikas? What had that been all about? He suddenly got another case of the creeping willies. “Yeah,” he answered, “didn’t sleep well.” He rested his face within his cupped hands. His father shook his head sadly. “That seems to be the modus operandi for you lately.” “Mm,” Henry mumbled through his hands. His father stood there for a while. “All right,” he finally said, “I have work I need to do. Take care.” Henry nodded, now staring at the computer monitor. The screen saver was running. A lone ball bounced around on the screen, in a video-game fashion. He had no idea why that damn ball had grabbed his attention so readily. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. The phone rang, jarring him out of his trance. He reached over and picked up the receiver. “G&T Enterprises.” “It’s me…Sarah.” Henry’s stomach twisted just slightly, giving him a bit of a jolt. Something in the sound of her voice…“Oh, hello. How are you doing?” “Not too hot. Could you come over?” “Let me find out.” Henry put the receiver on the desk and called his father on the intercom. “Will you need me within the next couple hours?” “Nope.” replied the voice.

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“Thanks.” Henry turned off the intercom and picked up the phone receiver. “Sarah, I’ll be right over.” “Thank you.” Henry then hung up. He grabbed his jacket off of the back of his chair and headed to the door. He stopped, looked behind him at the chaos called an office, shook his head and opened the door. --Henry drove through the pouring rain, up to Sarah’s bottom-floor apartment. He shut the car off and stared out his door window, up at her apartment. The rain drowned out the sounds of the street and had an odd calming effect on Henry–that, coupled with the lack of sleep, made him feel like dozing off right in the car. The only thing that kept him awake was the churning sensation in his stomach. Every time he got within a hundred feet of Sarah, his stomach performed strange acrobatic tricks. He sat in the car for several minutes, quietly looking up at the window and trying to find the willpower and energy to drag himself out of the car. He eventually sighed wistfully. My emotions are not my master, he thought to himself. He swallowed hard, opened his door and got out of his car. He grabbed his umbrella quickly and opened it, and made a mad dash to the door. He knocked, and waited under the awning. Nobody came. He knocked again, and opened the door, slowly. The door creaked as he started in. “Hello?” “Henry…” Sarah was in the living room, across from the foyer. She was sitting in a sofa, looking out the window, so that not even a profile of her face showed, just the back of her head. In spite of that, he could somehow tell she was half in tears. “What’s wrong?” “I…” She stopped, sniffed, and grabbed a tissue. Henry walked up and put a hand on her shoulder. Her face lost its pale look of sadness and started into a bright red. “I found out what my fiancée has been doing. Behind my back, no less! He proposed to me, and now he goes and does this!” Henry backed off a little at the sudden outburst. He had never seen her quite this angry before. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said to Sarah. He did not need to ask what happened. He could already tell just from Sarah’s general 43

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emotional state. “How…” But his voice trailed off. He really didn’t want to pour salt on the wound. Sarah cooled off a little, and began sniffing again. She answered Henry’s unasked question. “Elizabeth heard about it through a friend of Derek’s. She has a way of getting information from people.” She tried to force a smile. Henry nodded, knowing exactly what she meant as he reflected on the discussion he had with Elizabeth only three weeks ago. She sighed, and continued. “It was probably for the better. Ever since 1999, I have been confused. There was my boyfriend, Derek, and then we met up again…” Henry’s stomach jumped. She continued. “I didn’t know what to say or do. I didn’t want to hurt Derek. He was so sweet. For a while, anyway. But now…well…I still can’t say it…” Sarah started to turn a bit white. “I know this sounds a bit odd, but I think you might be able to understand. You are one of the most understanding people I know.” She sighed, then took a deep breath. “About a week ago, I started having these dreams that told me to forget about Derek…that there was you…and with you, there would be this incredible journey…and I think I remember something about Earth becoming desolate or something…” This time, it felt like Henry’s heart was going to pop out of his chest, and someone had nailed his feet to the floor. The peculiar feeling in his head he had had once just a few weeks ago started again, and his vision became a little blotchy, as he reeled in the sense of revelation. This is all a bit too weird for me, he thought, as he launched into a silent conversation with himself, his mind spinning. What the hell is going on here? Could she have had the same dream I did? Is it possible? I guess stranger things have happened. Elizabeth has seen the box. So what do I do? Tell her my dream and thoroughly freak her out? I mean, what if she thinks its another attempt to gain her favors, especially since she’s discovered her fiancée’s infidelity? Damn it. What the hell do I do? Why not tell her? The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Henry blinked. “Huh?” “What?” Sarah said. “Did you say something?” “Uh…no, I thought you did.” Henry frowned and scratched his arm. “Odd. I could’ve sworn…” He sighed. Oh, well. What the heck. “Sarah, I have something to tell you. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. I 44

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fully understand your situation with Derek, and I don’t want you to think that I have ulterior motives for telling you this…” Sarah frowned at Henry. “What are you getting at?” “Uh…” Henry scratched the back of his head and shifted his feet uneasily. “Well, okay. Here goes.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Okay. The other day, I had a dream where this glowing being hands me a box and tells me to use the contents to build a ship to fly to another world because this world is dying a slow death and will be uninhabitable soon.” Henry shifted his feet again. Sarah turned pale. “Glowing being? That’s what I saw, too. I.. I…can’t believe…” “Neither could I. I thought I was having some kind of messiah complex or something at first. I had no idea that you would’ve seen the same things I saw. Now that I know, you can’t imagine the feeling…” “Oh, yes I can. I have it now.” Sarah shifted a bit. “Uh…when you woke, was there…was there…” Henry looked at the floor. “No. It was a dream, nothing more. But I did write it all in my dream journal.” His eyes lit up a bit. “Detailed accounts. Elizabeth pretty much forced me to pore through it. There’s even stuff in there I cannot find anywhere on the internet. And it all seems to make sense!” Sarah’s mouth hung open in awe. “Wow. Do you think there’s enough?” “Enough to go on. But it’s all theoretical. There were blueprints, but I couldn’t write those down very well. I only have a general sketch of those. Then, the key item had to do with gravitons, and I don’t remember the theory too well on controlling those particles…” “But it’s enough to go on.” Sarah sighed. “So what are you going to do?” Henry sat on the opposite end of the couch with Sarah and thought. After a few moments, he said, “Well, I have friends who are a bit more fluent in this kind of thing. There’s one guy who’s well versed in aerospace design, and another who’s a computer science professor and I think I may be able to find someone who knows a lot about quantum physics.” Henry frowned a bit. “But how do I tell them…” Just tell them. Henry jumped a bit and frantically looked around the room. Sarah raised an eyebrow. “What? You’re freaking me out, Henry.” 45

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“I…I’m sorry. I could swear that I keep hearing someone talking to me.” Sarah smirked. “I always knew you were a little kooky.” “No, no, it’s not like that. Maybe it’s just the lack of sleep. It’s like, you know, when you have stereo headphones on, and sometimes certain sounds seem like their coming from between your ears?” Sarah nodded. “Is that what you’re hearing?” Henry nodded, and gave a look of concern. “Well,” Sarah said, “it’s a well-known fact that many geniuses are at least a little insane.” She grinned broadly. Henry smirked. “Thanks.” “So…what are you going to do? You haven’t answered my question.” Henry sighed. “I guess I’m going to look those people up. I don’t know how I’m going to get the money, though, to build this thing.” Sarah shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.” “Yeah. That they have.” Henry clasped his hands in his lap and stared at them. He sighed deeply. “Is there something else?” Sarah looked intently at Henry. “Well…” Henry hesitated. He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to summon some courage. “You see, well…uh, what I want to ask is…uh…God!” he eventually exclaimed. “I’m thirty-something. You’d think this would get easier with time.” Sarah raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. “Just blurt it out, you goon.” “All right. If,” he inflected, “I can get people to help me…if I can actually build this ship…would you want to go with me? To explore the stars?” He looked up, with big eyes, at Sarah. Sarah smiled. “Henry, I don’t care if we ended up only exploring the bottom of a bucket of ice cream.” She slid in closer. “For the past six years I’ve been such a fool. Had we run into each other just six months earlier than you did, I think the outcome would’ve been much more pleasant. Neither of us would’ve had to go through what we did.” “Neither of us?” Henry looked confused. She sighed and looked down at the cushions. “You know, I have known Derek since college. We were always kind of sweethearts, but not too long after we met, he wanted us to be steady. Then, not too long after he asked me to marry him, I started having second thoughts and wondering why. There 46

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was no reason for me to not marry him. We had known each other for a very long time, we had almost everything in common, he was quite good in…well, never mind that.” She smirked a little. “But all that time I felt like there was something missing. Something I couldn’t put my finger on. I think the largest part was that I felt like I couldn’t be myself around him. He always nit-picked and didn’t try to be nice about it. That feeling–as I think about it, it felt a bit like claustrophobia–it became quite evident when I started to get to know you better.” She looked up and saw Henry’s expression. “You look like a deer caught in the headlamp of an oncoming train.” She grinned. “D…do I?” he squeaked. He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Why didn’t you?” Henry sighed and looked down at his clasped hands, now white from the pressure he had been applying. He released his death grip and simply put his hands on top of his legs. He remembered the sinking feeling he had when they had encountered each other at that accounting firm. “When I heard you were spoken for…well, I’m a bit old-fashioned. I don’t believe in pursuing anything that…well, is spoken for.” Sarah sighed. “Henry, nothing is really ‘spoken for’ until you exchange vows. Even then, this is twenty-first century America.” Henry shook his head. “I know…I know…Still…that’s how I thought.” “And I didn’t say anything because I thought Derek was the ‘one.’ But now I know better.” She moved in much closer and put one of her hands on Henry’s. His hand was as cold as ice. “God, Henry, where do you keep your hands? In the freezer?” She laughed brightly, and Henry could have suddenly swore that he heard a melody, somewhere distant, reminding him of a time long gone. An image quickly flashed into his mind’s eye, something of pure beauty, then was gone too quickly for him to latch on to what it was. Henry cleared his throat again, staring at the slim hand on top of his own. “Sorry. Next time I come over, I’ll make sure I put them in the oven instead.” He sheepishly grinned. Sarah laughed lightly again and smiled. She slowly extended a hand and touched Henry’s right cheek. He looked up, and his eyes ended up staring into two beautiful green pools of light. In a flash, all his tension and apprehension were gone like the wind. “Henry,” she quietly said, “I know, 47

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under the circumstances, this seems awkward…” She leaned forward and gently kissed him on the lips… And suddenly Henry felt like he was falling backwards.

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III August 9, 2005. Henry sat silently on the sofa, seemingly lost in a separate reality, contemplating things unknown. Only occasionally would he move to wipe the sweat from his brow, created by the excruciating heat of the dog days of summer. Then, he would settle back into a fantasyland of mysterious origin, feeling rudderless once again. He daydreamed about what it would be like to succeed in making a starship. He thought about all the strange places he could see. He’d bring his closest friends with him. They’d go to the far reaches of space, visiting strange worlds and maybe even discovering unknown civilizations. Perhaps even make a colony of their own. But then reality would come down on him like a wet blanket. He had talked to Basil, but Basil had no idea who could help. Nobody else was able to help, either. The thought of being stuck like this made him feel tired to the core, and he simply dazed off, staring at the pattern on the wallpaper. Suddenly, the doorbell interrupted his reverie. Slowly, he got up and went into the kitchen to open the door. “Hello,” said Sarah. “Oh, hi.” Henry stepped back to let Sarah in. Sarah observed his droopy demeanor and spoke. “What’s up with you? The heat?” “Yeah,” said Henry, distantly.

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“Uh huh.” Sarah walked into the dining room and pulled out a chair. She put one hand on her hip, and the other pointed to the chair. “Don’t shovel that manure at me. You’ve been moody for the past month. What’s really wrong?” Henry took the seat and sighed deeply. “I tell you, I don’t think I have a snowball’s chance in hell.” Sarah sat down beside him. “What do you mean?” “I’ve contacted just about everyone I can think of, without raising a bunch of suspicion to my project, and I’ve received no help at all. Others I cannot even get a hold of. I don’t know which way to turn.” The feeling of uselessness rose in him again, choking his words momentarily. He swallowed hard, then continued as best as he could, voicing his doubts and telling her what his father said. He finished by saying, “I’m beginning to wonder if that dream was just some kind of compilation of all the sci-fi and theoretical tripe I’ve been browsing through for years.” Sarah frowned. “Henry, I had the same dream, remember?” Henry nodded. “Yeah, I suppose…but nothing’s come of it. Was it all just a fluke? I’ve been thinking.” “Yeah?” “Why am I wasting my time with this? I’m really thinking of giving it up. It’s about time to grow up.” “Henry,” Sarah said, “even the most grown-up people have their dreams. Without them, none of the stuff we enjoy today would even exist. It was dreamers who wrote great novels, dreamers who fought for rights for minorities–dreamers who founded our country. Those are some major accomplishments. Your dream is no bigger or smaller than the next man’s. The only difference is what you put into it, and how much faith you have in yourself. Don’t give up yet. It’s not even been three months. If you want to take a break from it all, do so, but don’t give up. I don’t think both of us having the same dream was some kind of fluke. I would almost be tempted to say there’s divine intervention in all of this.” Henry looked down at his folded hands. “It’s still frustrating. Why give someone a vision like this, and then let him get hindered at every turn? It’s driving me crazy.”

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Sarah sighed. She stood up and held her hand out. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk out back. It’ll help you to relax.” --September 22, 2005. Darkness and silence surrounded the G&T Enterprises office this night, save a little light from a lamp and a computer screen. The occasional clicking sound of Henry typing on a keyboard echoed through the office. He sat in front of the screen, scrolling through a transcribed version of his dream of so many months ago. “Hmm.” Henry wrote down some information, then scrolled some more, hoping to find anything to give him some direction–anything to give him some hope. He had, in fact, tried to take some time off from pursuing this so-called obsession of his, but it didn’t last long. Obsessions seemed to do that to people–or, at the very least, to him. It had barely been a week since Sarah had persuaded him to stop fretting about the dreams and his lack of progress, and he was back at it again; going through his dream journal, contacting people, and fretting in general. He had never felt so driven in his entire life about something, and he just couldn’t let it go. Even if it meant it would drive him mad. Suddenly, the computer beeped and a message popped onto the screen. He stopped what he was doing to look. You have mail. He exited the text program and clicked on the mail icon. In it was a message from a friend of Henry’s. Henry clicked on the message. He bent forward to read it carefully. It read: Hey, Henry! I’ve got some interesting news for you. Hope you’re sitting down. I was thinking about your predicament, and went looking. I know this guy named Ted. He’s a computer programmer and owner for a huge software corporation. In fact, he programmed the operating system most of our design computers run on. Let’s just say that he’s filthy rich. Anyway, he wants to see your theories. If he likes what he sees, he’ll fucking fund you! Damn it, Henry, you’ve got a sponsor! 51

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Hopefully. You’d better get your shit together. He’s coming over tomorrow. I’ll be with him. Signed, Basil. Henry sat upright, his mouth hanging open. --September 23. Henry paced back and forth in the basement of his new house, clutching a sheaf of papers in his hands. Elsewhere in the basement, there was clutter as well. Various bits of machinery and electronics covered the work benches, interspersed with papers, manuals and other documents. There was a tube-shaped object mounted to a large concrete pedestal in the middle of the room. The open end pointed towards a far wall, where there were sensors. The closed end was connected to a gauge. He wandered around the basement, occasionally circling the device in the center of the room like a vulture, muttering nervously to himself about everything that could go wrong. His erratic train of thought was derailed when he heard a knock on the door at the top of the stairs. “Kh-h..” He cleared his throat. “Kh-h…come on down.” The door creaked slightly as it opened. Henry stood nervously behind the steps, watching the ankles of two people that were slowly walking down the steep stairway. When they reached the bottom, Henry recognized the short, stocky man in a suit–minus the jacket–as his friend, Basil. He also saw a tall, dark-haired man standing behind him in a suit as well–Henry’s first impression of the stranger was that he could’ve been a mortician. Or a grave digger. He had this almost creepy gaunt look about him. The stranger scrutinized the dim surroundings of the wide but short basement. Basil walked up to Henry, smiling. “Hey, Henry, how’s it hanging?” “Uh, okay. Nervous.” “Understandable.” He turned to the stranger. “Henry, this is Ted.” “Software designer, right?” Henry asked. Ted slightly nodded. “Yes, kind of. I still do some programming from time to time, but I don’t find as much time as I used to when I first started my business.” Henry raised both eyebrows. “Business? Ah, Basil mentioned that…” 52

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“Yes. I and a couple others own a software company. It’s not as grand as the most renowned software company on the market today, but we’re pretty big, and our market share is growing.” He motioned to the computer on the workbench in the corner. “Your computer is running our operating system.” Henry turned to the corner. “Really? Huh.” Ted folded his arms. “So, where’s the goodies?” “Uh, I don’t have a complete prototype yet. It’s been hard finding someone who knows about this stuff to help me out. But I have papers.” “Lots of them, too, I’ll bet. Okay, let’s take a look.” Henry nodded. He went over to the computer to grab the papers he wanted, when he realized that he had them in his hand. “Oh. Uh, I have them here.” He walked back over and laid them out on the other end of the workbench. “Okay. The entire system runs in three stages. The first stage runs on electromagnetic propulsion. I do have a prototype for that.” He pointed towards the device mounted in the center of the room. Ted examined it and nodded. “Okay. Can you demonstrate it?” “Yeah, uh huh. Uh, hold on a minute. Oh, and stand away from the device.” Henry went back to the workbench and flipped a switch. A hum came from the box next to the device. “Okay. That’s the transformer. I’ll turn up the dial. Go ahead and watch the gauge. It’s rated in tons.” Ted raised an eyebrow as he leaned in to look at the gauge. “Tons of force?” Henry nodded. He turned the dial ever so slightly, and the gauge started to register a reading. The humming in the transformer became louder. Ted stepped back, nervously watching as the readout on the gauge started going crazy. “Uh…uh…you can turn that off now.” Henry nodded. He turned the dial back to zero and turned off the transformer. The hum stopped. “That was running at five watts. Did you see how high it read?” Ted nodded, a little shaken. “Yeah. About three hundred tons. I’m surprised it didn’t rip out of its mount.” Henry shrugged. “Well, when it comes to structures, I’m an expert.” “Yeah. Basil told me you were a…civil engineer? Designing esoteric propulsion technology? Isn’t that kind of like playing with dynamite?” 53

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Henry frowned, becoming a little defensive. “I always thoroughly research everything I do.” “Basil told me that, too. What’s stage two?” “Oh. Stage two I only have on paper. I call it the Matter/Anti-Matter Power System. MAMPS for short.” “You use the energy from matter/antimatter annihilation to propel the ship. That will only get you to maybe half the speed of light, and then it has to be a pretty big engine. I do some reading, too.” Ted smirked. “I know. I know it only gets you to half the speed of light, but I don’t use it for that. The energy created by stage two can be used to run stage three.” “And that’s the item you’re needing help on from quantum physicists.” Henry nodded solemnly. “Yeah. The concept is nothing new. Some man named Alcubierre effectively invented the concept, or at least formulated a theory as to how it would work, but nobody has been able to build a working model of his drive. Yet. Allegedly, this drive has the ability to warp the fabric of space, creating a small pocket of space that is propelled, along with whatever is in this pocket, at incredible speeds. Inside the pocket, the ship stays stationary, since only the space around the ship is moving, not the ship itself. There is, therefore, no need to worry about inertial forces.” Ted flipped through the papers and read them. After a few minutes of silent reading, he put them down. He looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes, remaining silent for a few more minutes. “Okay,” he finally said. “Everything looks sound. I’ll help fund you. Maybe that will entice a physicist to come and help you. What does the government know?” “Nothing that I’m aware of, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Ted looked at Henry skeptically. “And how many physicists have you contacted?” “Uh…” Henry shifted a bit under Ted’s scrutinizing gaze. “Only about six. Work takes up most of the day, and at night it’s very difficult to get a hold of people that have already gone home. I also have to track some of these people down through various contacts that I’ve made over the years. I’ve worked mostly through friends I trust. It’s taken some time.” Ted nodded. “Uh, huh. And the annihilation is going to generate these gravitons you’re looking for?” 54

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Henry nodded. “Yeah. Unfortunately, to build a collider and what not is what’s costing money, and that’s why I don’t have a prototype for that. And I need the physicist to help me design it correctly. And to research the particles that get generated.” Ted nodded again. “Okay. Well, good luck. Maybe I can dig up someone I trust who works in the field of physics. Once we find a physicist to help, I’ll wire you some funds to build a prototype of your MAMPS and perhaps a shuttle, if that’s the goal you’re heading for. And then we’ll go from there. Of course, you realize I’m going to want updates, at least monthly.” “I do.” Ted smiled, then ducked his head to avoid the low rafters as he walked back to the steps. He stopped, said, “Don’t blow yourself up,” walked up the stairs and was gone. Henry breathed a loud sigh of relief. “Well, Henry,” Basil said, “you’re one lucky guy.” Henry nodded. “Yeah. But, I can’t help but wonder if he’s hoping to make some kind of profit on the final design.” Basil shrugged. “I don’t know. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s been assertive, but not the kind of guy to stab someone in the back. And I’ve known him off and on for quite some time. I think we can trust him.” “I hope you’re right.” --October 5. Henry was sitting at the workstation, designing a leach field for a new house being built in a small town nearby, when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver. “G&T Enterprises, Henry speaking, how can I help you?” “Yeah, Henry? You got an update for me?” “Oh, hi, Ted. Not really.” “Didn’t think so. It’s only been a couple weeks. I take it you’ve been busy with work?” “For the most part. I usually can squeak in a couple hours a night, and, of course, weekends. I just don’t dare design a cyclotron without assistance.” 55

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“Actually, that’s why I called. Remember that I thought I knew someone I could trust who was proficient in the field of physics?” “Yeah.” “Her name is Judy Hauschild. She works in the university as a physics professor. She’s…intrigued…by your design, and is willing to help. But on weekends only. She can have her teaching assistants correct assignments. That’s the only way she’s going to have time. And she’ll do it for free, so we’re both lucky.” Henry snickered. “Guess so.” Judy…Judy…where have I heard that name before? “You say she works at the university?” “That’s right.” “Hmm. I know someone else who works there. He’s in the computer science department. He’s been hard to reach lately, though.” “Interesting. Sounds like an asset when you start working on the final design. If you can track him down.” “Yep. Well, thanks. When can I expect to hear from her?” “This weekend. I expect she’ll call Friday, and you may meet Saturday, the eighth.” “Cool. Thanks.” “Not a problem. Just don’t disappoint me. Goodbye.” Click. Henry hung up. He shifted a bit, thinking about his suspicion that Ted was only in it for money. I mean, it’s just the way of the world, but what am I going to do when I tell him the whole dream? Ted seemed extremely serious about the project. Of course, building a prototype of a spaceship wasn’t exactly a joking matter. But still…why was Ted so interested in seeing the project succeed? Ted had talked to Henry a total of two times–including just now–and never explained his motives. Basil couldn’t give any answers, either. It unnerved him. At least Basil vouched for him, but that did not always mean that the person one vouches for doesn’t have some kind of secret that could be a detriment to all concerned. Henry thought about the options. Ted could be looking to make a financial profit off of the final design. But who would he sell it to? The government? It was possible, but why fund the project with his own money, then? Perhaps he expected to see his investment recouped when he sold it to the government? What about foreign governments? He hoped not. But it 56

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seemed unlikely that Ted would risk getting into trouble with the US government when there was more to lose–such as his business and his freedom–than gain. Which led to the next question: what else could Ted gain from this? Maybe Ted just wanted what Henry wanted: to explore new worlds. Henry knew too little about Ted to know for sure what his motives and interests were. Perhaps he could find out. He typed in the web address for Digisoft–Ted’s company, as Basil had explained to him after the meeting–in the browser. Maybe there was a biography in there on Ted? That would give him some clues. The company’s home page sprung up on the screen. He browsed through the pages, until he finally came to the page that listed the major players in the company. Finding a link for Ted Fleming, he clicked on it. Sure enough, there was a bio there, and the picture matched the Ted he met. Henry scanned it…interests include mountain climbing…flying…scuba diving…Sounded like an adventurous individual. Perhaps Ted was truly just in the project for the potential adventure. Henry continued to read. Spent five years in the Army…An Army veteran? Henry raised an eyebrow. That might rule out his involvement with other countries, if he was a patriot. Still didn’t rule out his own government. Henry closed the browser window, his stomach churning slightly from nerves. All he could do was trust Basil’s judgment. For now. --October 8. Henry opened the door to the front porch. “Come in.” “Thank you.” The blond woman walked in, wiped her feet on the mat, and took off her wide-brimmed hat. “I take it you’re Henry? The one on the phone?” Henry nodded. “And you’re Judy. Welcome to my house. It’s a bit of a mess. I’ve been way busy lately.” The woman smiled. “That’s all right. So, you’re the inventor? Well, crazier things have happened.” She grabbed a chair and sat down at the dining table. “So, how can I help you?” 57

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“I need help with some of the more recent theories on the creation and control of gravitons. And I need someone with a bit of expertise to help me with building a cyclotron.” Judy nodded. “That’s a tall order. Well, your gravitons fall under the class of force, or boson, particles, which photons fall under, too. We, of course, have been able to harness the photon, and there is a unification theory between electromagnetic effects and gravitational effects, but that’s where it ends. The problem is creating–‘creating’ being a bad choice of words–a graviton, let alone containing it. Containing it can probably be done by electromagnetic means. But what’s even worse than that, although the graviton will be able to pull the fabric of space closer together, you need something behind you stretching out the fabric. Otherwise, a spaceship would be torn apart from the force of the gravity field in front of it. And the only way you can create a stretch in the fabric of space is to have a source of negative gravity, and we have not been able to observe what they call negative matter, at least, not for any amount of time greater than a few milliseconds. The most popular theory of today is harnessing the power of a mini black hole. Not only do scientists think that it would be a great source of power, but the natural gravitational effects of a black hole could be harnessed to manipulate the fabric of space, thus creating what is commonly called a ‘warp.’” Henry nodded. “That much I know. But nobody knows how to create, per se, a graviton?” “Not one that lasts. They’re short-lived as real particles before bonding to something else. We have yet been unable to contain one and study it.” Henry nodded. “Can I show you something?” “That’s why I’m here.” “Okay. Follow me.” Henry went over to the door to the basement, and Judy got up and followed. They went down the steps into the basement workshop. “Low ceiling,” Judy commented. “Good thing I’m not tall…like Ted. I bet he had fun down here.” Henry chuckled. “Yeah. I’m amazed he didn’t smash his head into a rafter. I still do occasionally.” They walked over to the workbench, while Judy stared at the large tube-like device in the middle of the room. 58

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Judy gestured to the odd device. “What’s that? It looks like a small cannon that doesn’t know how to use hair rollers.” “Electromagnetic propulsion device. It works.” “Ah.” Judy examined the device with the various coils sticking out of it. “Some of these parts look similar to something I think Tesla may have made. I recognize the transformer as using a Tesla coil, anyway.” Henry nodded. “Yeah, some of the properties are based on Tesla’s work, and a few other theoretical physicists. Here’s the data on it, if you’re interested.” He handed the woman some paperwork, bound in a small binder. Judy looked at the booklet handed to her and leafed through it. “Hmm. You know, a similar device could be used to harness the graviton, but it’s iffy. That’s one popular theory, anyway.” Henry nodded. “I know. Take a look at this.” He accessed his computerized version of his dream journal and scrolled to a specific spot on the document. He stepped back to let Judy look. Judy pulled up a stool and took a look. Her mouth hung open as she scrolled through the document. “Good God. It’s missing some parts…but I think you’ve stumbled onto something very big. How did you figure it out?” “Would you believe me if I told you it came to me in a dream?” Judy shifted a little on the stool. “Well…yes, actually, I would. Some say Tesla and Edison dreamed their inventions. And the benzene ring was figured out in a dream. So that doesn’t surprise me that much. But, my God, I’ve never seen anything like this before.” “Do you think we can build it?” “Yes! This should be very interesting to see. I still don’t know how we’re going to get an antigraviton, though.” “Well…” Henry walked back up to the computer and scrolled to a different spot. Judy read. “MAMPS? You designed a system to run on antimatter?” Henry nodded. “Well…that’s not really anything new, but I’ve never seen a design for it before. I take it that’s why you needed help with the cyclotron?” Henry nodded again. Judy leaned against the workbench and thought. “Interesting. If we could 59

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split antimatter, we may be able to find the antigraviton. We just, as of yet, have been unable to keep any antimatter for any length of time before it goes away. But your electromagnetic device could be manipulated to do just that– contain antimatter. Working the various configurations should prove interesting.” Judy jumped a bit, in excitement. “This is going to be fun! Count me in!” Henry smiled. “Cool.” --October 10. Henry sat at his desk back in the G&T office. He was currently lost in a daydream–apparently a good one, since he was smiling slightly. The pencil in his hand wavered up and down from time to time, indicating that he was mentally elsewhere for a while, completely ignoring the blueprint in front of him. The phone rang, snapping him out of his daze, but he was still smiling. “G&T Enterprises, Henry speaking. How can I help you?” “It’s me. Ted.” The smile faded some. “Oh. Hello. I take it you heard that Judy counted herself in?” “I did. Congratulations. What are your current plans?” “Uh…” Henry tapped his pencil a little harder on the table. “Okay, let’s see. She’s going to try to get some time at the new collider in Texas to attempt to observe gravitons, and see if they can be manipulated. Then, she’s going to see if she can build a containment device using my notes.” “That’s it?” Henry tapped his pencil a little harder. “Yeah, for now.” “Okay.” Silence. “Okay. Listen carefully. How fast do you want this done?” Henry stopped tapping his pencil. “Uh…what do you mean?” “Just that. How fast do you want to finish a complete, working prototype of a space ship?” Henry scratched the top of his head with the pencil lead. “Uh…I hadn’t really thought of that. I guess I should’ve. But I figured it would take three 60

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to four years, because I can’t just yank people away from their jobs. I feasibly only could get help on weekends, at lest for now.” “Very true. Here’s why I’m asking. Personally–and I hope you understand this–as a businessman, I cannot afford to wait long periods of time for an investment to come to fruition. I’d personally like to see something in less than three years. You do understand me, right?” “Absolutely,” Henry said, tapping his pencil even harder now. “I do coown a contracting firm. Deadlines are very important. It’s just that–” “Relax, I’m not putting you on the spot.” Henry stopped tapping again. Ted continued. “Anyway, here’s the scoop. How much attention do you want to attract from the government? Do you want help from our government? What do you really want from this project?” Henry sat, stunned. Jeez, what a good question. “Jeez, what a good question.” “Yes. It is. So, what do you really want?” Henry sat and thought. “Uh. Well, personally, I wanted to take a group of close people I can trust and discover a new world, maybe even colonize it.” “Exactly. So. What kind of help do you want?” “Well, if it’s to be a personal project, I definitely cannot let any government know what’s going on. Technological advances of this magnitude will attract a lot of attention.” “Exactly.” Silence. “Uh, hem.” Henry cleared his throat. “So…uh, what are you asking?” “Just this. You may want to be careful how much experimenting you’re doing with public and governmental facilities. Don’t forget, I do have funds you can access, within reason. In addition, you may want to postpone final tests until you’ve completed everything else. The reason being is that government installations can pick up electromagnetic signatures like the ones your ship can produce in stages one and two–your electromagnetic propulsion phase and matter annihilation phase. Particularly the latter. The radiation that could be put out would definitely turn heads, and you’d need to move quickly for a final liftoff. Essentially, what I’m telling you is, you need 61

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to be careful how you plan this. Do you understand?” Henry swallowed hard. At least this answers my question about whether he wanted to sell the technology to our government, he thought. “Uh, yeah. What brought this up, anyway?” “Do you remember when you told me how many people you had contacted for help with the quantum physics side of your project?” “Yeah.” “Well, I’ve already heard some rumors flying that there have been government inquiries. Not many, and they seem pretty small. You went talking to some nuclear physicists for help with what’s essentially a black project, and the government gets very nervous about things like that. From what I understand, they thought there were inquiries about building nuclear bombs.” Henry gulped. “I heard that. Yes, that’s a big deal. Fortunately, they later learned that there was just research going on in the quantum field of physics, not nuclear, so right now you’re in the clear, but you need to watch yourself. What if your matter/antimatter prototype blows up? What do you think the results of an explosion like that would be?” “National investigation?” “Try international. I don’t think you want to go to jail, do you?” “Uh,” gulp, “no.” “Okay. So don’t do any major tests until near the end. I do realize some tests have to be done to ensure the theory works, but I’d recommend at least building a spaceworthy shuttle that can have the quantum components added in later…if necessary. You can, however, install the electromagnetic propulsion device. That shouldn’t turn any heads.” “Okay. So what does that have to do with how quick I want to get off the planet?” “Simple. Your entire time schedule is based on the final test of the matter/ antimatter device and the Alcubierre warp drive. Those items may have to be done in a hurry near the end. Also, depending on how much risk you want to take on exposing yourself, you should think about at what rate to build everything.” “Oh. Suggestions?” 62

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“Right now, I’d keep cool for a few months. Maybe six to eight. Wait until June next year to get people to actually start building things. Then just have people work on weekends. If they believe in the project, they’ll devote more time on their own initiative. Do you have people already in mind?” “Yes. I have a computer science professor who specializes in special hardware platforms and an aerospace engineer who works for a major airplane manufacturer. He can weld, too.” “Aerospace engineer…you mean Basil. He’s cool with all this?” “Yep.” “Yeah, that makes sense. He introduced me to you, after all. And you’re familiar with structures and structural strength. How’s your knowledge of mechanical engineering?” “Many of those courses were prerequisites for my degree.” “That helps. You’ve pretty much got everyone you’ll need there to do the initial design. I suggest getting your hands on something already fabricated for air flight, such as a jet. You can modify it from there, and it will save you months, if not years, of work.” “Oh, okay. Thanks for the advice.” “No problem. Oh, and one last thing. You can still design the warp drive without the matter/antimatter device, as long as you can figure out the best way of harnessing that dark matter, right?” “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” “Good. Then your matter/antimatter device should be the last thing built and tested. I suspect it would take only a month to complete that after you find out just how efficient it will be in providing power and dark matter for the warp drive–but you may have to work around the clock. Like I said before, that step has the potential of raising many eyebrows. Anyway, I’ll leave you to your work. I’m sure you’re busy.” “Not really. It just recently slowed down. Winter’s coming and not much really goes on up here during the snow season. We’ve just been finishing up some jobs.” “Oh. Well, anyway, good luck. And let me know when you plan on starting work on the project, okay?” “Will do. Goodbye.” “Goodbye.” Ted hung up. 63

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Henry slowly put the receiver back in its cradle and rested his chin on his hand to think. Jeez…government investigation. Didn’t realize I had almost blown it. But, at least this last conversation helped Henry trust Ted a bit more. --June 1, 2006. Henry scrolled through his computerized address book, searching for a phone number. He couldn’t readily start on the design of the propulsion system, but he knew what would be needed to actually run the system. Finding the number he wrote down long ago and transferred to his address book, he dialed the number and let the phone ring. Someone picked up. “Computer Engineering Department. How can I help you?” “I need to get hold of Scott Kingman. Is he in?” This time, Henry quietly thought to himself. He found it funny that Scott had bitched to him about never contacting him, and here he had tried at least a half dozen times, and never succeeded in reaching him. He smirked at the humor and irony of it all. “Yes he is. I’ll patch you into his office. Please hold.” Henry sat and waited for the phone to pick up again. Soon, there was a click, then a voice. “Doctor Kingman’s office. Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” “Scott? Is this you?” “Yes it is,” the voice responded. “Long time no see, Henry. I hear you’ve tried to contact me a few times. What’s up? Still working at that construction company?” he asked. There was a tinge of cynicism in his voice when he asked the question. “No, not anymore.” “Well, there’s a surprise,” he replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. Henry ignored it. “Hey, Scott, I need to ask a favor of you. What I am going to tell you is a secret. You must not tell anybody else under any circumstances, except your wife.” “Uh…okay.” A snicker. “So, what’s on your mind?” Henry swallowed. This was going to be hard. He had a hard enough time

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telling Basil, who he had known for quite some time. Only Basil, Ted, Sarah, Elizabeth, Judy and his father knew about the dream. Scott had a tendency to be a cynic, and he felt that this little bit of news he was about to drop on Scott would be, at the very least, met with guffaws of laughter. “I had a dream,” he started. “Me, too! Several of them. Sometimes, twice a night!” Henry rolled his eyes. “No, Scott, come on.” He then told him about the three dreams he had over a year ago. He finished with, “I put all that information in my dream journal. And it all looks good. So I wanted to know if you wanted to help out.” There was a long pause. “Bullshit! Are you trying to pull a joke on me or something?” “I’m not joking.” “And you want to know if I would like to go out in space with you? How many others have been told of this?” “Five. Two of them will help me design a prototype of the shuttle, but I need more. That’s why I’ve called you. We’re going to build this shuttle, and us and a few others will colonize a new world.” A pause. “You know, maybe you should come and see my wife. She has such a soft and lovely couch…right next to her padded party room, reserved just for you…” “Hey, I am serious. Listen to this: I even have a multi-million dollar sponsor. He’s one of the people who will be helping me.” “Multi-million dollar sponsor?” Another pause. “Hope he knows what he’s doing. Okay, I’ll humor you. I’ll look at what you’ve got, then I’ll decide. You do realize that every scientist and his damn dog will swear on Einstein’s gravestone that faster-than-light travel is impossible…” “Not every scientist. Quantum physicists believe it is possible, if you can warp the fabric of the space-time continuum.” “Uh huh. But we haven’t got that level of technol…oh. I think I see your point. When are you going to have everyone working on this, anyway? Weekends?” “Yes. For now.” A sigh. “When are you going to start?” “June 17. I’m going to need a couple weeks to get what I need.” 65

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“Okay…I’ll see you then.” Henry then hung up. He had his starting crew. Now, all he had to do was wait. --June 17, 2006. Henry sat in a chair in a small, dusty office. The sun shined in brightly through the nearby open window, casting its yellow light on the floor below. A slight but sweet breeze blew in, stirring some of the dust around, making the particles look like swirling stars. His fingers drummed on the nearby desk. “I feel like I got butterflies in my stomach,” he said. “That’s it? I gotta deal with this thing kicking me from the inside.” Sarah said, standing in a nearby corner, leaning against the wall and rubbing her stomach. She looked at him with concern. “Are you that nervous?” “Just a little,” he replied. His fingers continued to drum the desk. “Don’t be. They’re your friends. You’ve known them for years.” “Scott wasn’t too optimistic.” “All things work out for the best, just you remember that.” She walked up to him and stood behind him. She began to run her fingers through his hair. “Mmm…” he groaned. “That’s good lovin.’” Sarah chuckled and smiled. “You’re evil, you know that, don’t you?” “Damn straight.” Henry sat up when he heard a vehicle pull up outside. After a few seconds, he could hear a car door slam closed. The sound of footsteps warned of someone’s approach. After about a minute, there was a slight knock. “Come in,” Henry called. The door slowly opened. Ted’s head peeked around the door jamb. “Hi. I assume this is the hangar you bought?” “That’s right, Ted. Come in.” The head nodded. It ducked as the rest of the body came in. “I hate doorways. They’re too short.” “No, you’re just too tall. Glad you could make it.” Ted noted the presence of Sarah. “Care to introduce me?” “Oh…yeah, this is Sarah.” 66

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Sarah extended a hand, which Ted grasped and shook. “Good to meet you,” she said. “Likewise.” Ted looked at Sarah’s stomach. “How many months?” “Six. And it’s six months too long, if you ask me.” Ted grinned. “My wife would probably agree. When did you two get hitched? Last I knew, Henry was still a swinging bachelor.” “Just before Christmas,” Henry replied. “Ah, I see. So, where’s the shuttle?” he said, turning to Henry. “I’d like to wait and show it to the rest of the crew. Dramatics, you know” Ted nodded. “So, where are they?” Henry shrugged. “I don’t know. I do know that Basil and Scott should be coming in together.” Ted cocked his head. “Hmm. Sounds like a car.” Henry listened. He heard the sound of crunching gravel. “Yeah, that could be them.” Ted hummed. He looked around the place. “An old hangar.” Behind Henry, he saw the door leading into the main section of the hangar. It had a venetian blind on it, in front of what was probably a window. Ted gestured to the door. “The jet is behind there?” Henry nodded. The sound of the crunching stopped, and a couple car doors slammed. A short, platinum-haired individual strode in, gazing around him, as if ensuring that nothing was missing. “Sarah…once again…” he quickly blurted to the woman, giving a glance to her pregnant belly. He then turned to Henry and said, “Just couldn’t control yourself, huh? Hope it wasn’t an accident.” Henry immediately turned a bright red, while Sarah laughed. “Guess that answers my question,” Scott said, grinning evilly. He immediately found a chair, sat down, and put his feet up on the dusty desk. “Okay, I’m here. So…where is it?” “Patience, Scott. Where’s Basil?” Scott chuckled. “Waddling up the walkway, I’d imagine. I’ll bet he’ll have his kid before Sarah does.” “Oh, shut up,” Basil retorted, just outside the door. Ted snorted, then smirked. Basil walked inside and found a blank spot on the wall to lean upon. “Hi, 67

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Sarah,” he said. Sarah nodded her hello. Henry spoke. “Glad you could make it, all.” “Yeah, yeah,” Scott said, impatiently. “So, I take it this is the tycoon who gave you all that money for this project of yours?” He motioned to Ted. “That’s correct,” Ted replied. “Scott…I introduced him to Henry last September,” Basil interjected. Scott nodded. “So…did you spend all the money already on this project of yours?” Henry slowly got up and sauntered towards the door in the back of the room. “Some of it. I take it you want to see it?” Scott rolled his eyes. “I didn’t drive two hundred miles not to.” Henry nodded. He motioned towards the blinds on the interior door, then yanked down on the cord dramatically, and presented what was behind it. Basil leaned forward to get a better look. “Good God!” he remarked. “A 767?” “Yes. That will be the hull of our shuttle. We must modify this plane to withstand the vacuum of space. We will also re-do the interior and make twenty-five sleeping compartments. Also inside will be an engine room, a lifesupport center, a couple teeny bathrooms, a bigger cockpit, and a mess hall. And storage. Lots of storage.” Scott shook his head in dismay. “You’re certifiable. Sarah, why do you put up with him?” Sarah shrugged. “I just keep him around for the sex.” Henry turned a bright shade of red, and everyone began to laugh loudly. Scott gained some composure and asked a question. “So, how do you know it’s going to go anywhere? Where is the proof?” “I have the plans right here.” Henry then took out a large folder, opened it, and pulled out the plans for the spaceship. He then handed them to Scott. Scott looked the plans over, then looked up at Henry in disbelief. “Jeez, you are not kidding, are you?” “No, I’m not. Here are the rest of the plans.” Henry then pulled out the documentation and engine plans. Scott read the documentation and looked at the engine plans. His face began to go pale. “Oh, shit!” Scott held out the papers to Basil. 68

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Basil nodded to Scott. “I’ve seen them already. So, what are we going to name the ship, anyway?” he asked. “We are going to name it, right?” Henry shrugged. “I’m open to suggestions. Discovery? Enterprise?” “I remember you saying to me about exploring distant worlds.” Everyone agreed.

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IV July 4, 2006. There was a loud series of explosions, and Henry jumped. He looked down at his watch and realized that he was late for the fireworks. Instead of being at the park to watch the display–where Sarah happened to be waiting–he had been roaming the streets, looking at the various wares for sale on the sidewalks and in the stores, and completely losing track of time. Some people had been trying to sell their artwork here, as well. Henry made his way through the few people left on the street. Everyone else had probably already found a good location to view the fireworks. A young couple blasted past Henry, almost knocking him over. “Slow down, Danny!” “We can’t! We’ve already missed the beginning. Before we even get to the park, most of the show will be over!” “But, jeez, Danny, you’ll kill someone if you keep…” The conversation continued on and faded out, as they got further away. Henry steadied himself and looked around. On an easel, right next to him, was a painting of a field with a farmer in it. He stared at it for a while, noting the vast array of colors used in painting the tall wheat. He bent over and examined it closely, wondering if the wheat’s color was just a change in shade, or if each strand was made from a different, individual color. The lines seemed to follow each other symmetrically, causing a hypnotic effect. Henry

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stood there, stooped over, with his mouth hanging open like a beached fish. “Do you like it?” “What?” Henry quickly turned around. “Do you like it?” A man of about sixty–or so Henry guessed–stood next to him. He wore faded blue jeans and a loose white shirt with the occasional paint smear on it. Despite his apparent age, he carried an air of youth about him that Henry couldn’t quite figure out. He had a full head of snow-white hair and sparkling blue eyes. “Uh, yeah, I do like it. What’s it called?” “A New Field. It’s a copy, really, of another painter. He did a lot of postCivil War paintings. I forget his name. But my name is Harry.” “Oh, hi. Mine’s Henry.” He offered his hand. “How long have you been painting for?” “Can’t really say. Twenty years, perhaps. It has always been a passion of mine, and it, so far, has kept food on the table, on top of what I get for retirement and for teaching art at the local high school.” Henry nodded. “A passion, huh?” “Yes. It is my way of expressing myself–what I know and what I’ve experienced. I used to live on a farm, hence the painting.” He gestured to the farm painting. “I hate using old clichés, but it’s like they always say, ‘A picture is worth a thousand words.’” Henry nodded again. He wandered around a bit, looking at the other paintings. “You know, you’re pretty good. I used to do art, but I got out of it.” “Never let a talent go to waste. I almost gave up art, too. I remember when I started my life as an artist. It was very hard to get money for painting. However, I’ve learned that if you really believe in something, and you work hard enough for your goal, and the conditions are right, it will be yours. Nothing is impossible.” Henry walked around, looking at the paintings. “That one I call Summer Evening.” Henry nodded at the twilight painting, made up of deep blues, oranges and reds. Each color was notably different, but blended together so well they may have well been one and the same color. On a hill, in the distance, he thought he saw something that looked like a bronze pillar. It struck him as a little odd, 71

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but he dismissed it. He wandered around to the other side of this easel and stopped dead in his tracks. Harry shifted his weight. “I call that one The Gift.” The picture was mostly a brilliant white. In the center there was a shape– almost human–and painted as if made of brilliant light. One dark object was the centerpiece. It was very fuzzy, but it was apparently a wooden box. It appeared to have a golden letter on the lid: an X. Henry stammered. “How…how did you come up with this one?” “It may seem hard to believe, but I…” Henry interrupted, speaking as if far away. “…Saw it in a dream.” He continued to stare at the image before him, seemingly mesmerized. “Yeah, exactly. Like I said before, I like to paint from experience, too.” Henry suddenly snapped out of his trance. “How much?” Henry yanked out his wallet. “Seventy dollars. If that’s too steep…” “No, no, that’s fine.” Henry fished around in his wallet and grabbed a wad of bills. “Here, thanks.” Harry counted. “Uh, there’s over one hund…” “That’s all right, I think it is worth it.” “Oh. Well, thank you!” Harry began wrapping the painting in brown paper. “Do you live around here?” “Just recently moved here. Used to live out in the Midwest for a while. The farm. Other things. I recently completed…a job out there. Now that I have some free time, for a change, I’m back into painting more often.” Henry nodded slowly. They stood there silently for a while. Henry spoke. “Well, it has been…interesting to meet you. I hope to see you again real soon.” “Same here. Here’s my address if you want to look at more of my work.” Harry scribbled down an address on a piece of the wrapping paper and handed it to Henry. “One question, though.” “Sure, what?” “You seemed a little startled when you saw that painting, and you seemed to know I saw it in a dream. I assume you saw the box in a dream, too. Is that true?” 72

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Henry shuffled his feet a little, and dug the toe of his right sneaker into the gravel. “Well, you could put it that way.” Harry nodded. “Okay, I understand. Thank you for your purchase. See you later.” “No problem.” Henry took his package and left. He walked towards the park, but then realized that the fireworks had stopped. He sighed. Sarah was going to skin him alive. He stood by the library for a while, no more than five hundred feet from the artist’s easels. He looked up into the starry sky and wondered about the odd incident he had just bore witness to. --September 15, 2006. Sparks flew from underneath the belly of the 767, which now had a patchwork mess of metal and paint, with the occasional bluish marks from welds. The large man stopped welding, and the sparks ceased. He adjusted himself on the platform he was resting on to get more comfortable, then started welding again. Henry walked around the nose of the jet to the side Basil was welding on. “How’s it coming?” Basil stopped welding and sat up. He lifted the welding visor and wiped the sweat off his face. “Hey, you made it back. I’m almost done. It doesn’t look pretty, but it should withstand the vacuum of space. I can groom the work later. I just have a few more spots that need to be finished, then we have to wait for the welds to cool for about half an hour before we can do a compression test.” Henry nodded. “Okay, that sounds good to me. I’ll start rigging up the compressor so we’ll be ready to go.” Basil grunted in acknowledgment, lowered the welding visor, laid back down and began welding again. Henry shielded his eyes and went around to the other side of the hangar, where a large compressor rested. He yanked and grunted, but the compressor moved only very slowly on its wheels. “Hey Ted, can you help me please?” 73

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“Sure.” Ted got up from the computer in the office and walked out into the hangar to help. “Just checking in at work. We’re planning a joint venture to produce a new automation system in some auto plants in China.” “Ah.” Ted got on the other side of the compressor and said, “Okay, pull!” The two put their effort into moving the hulking machinery towards the aircraft. “Ugh,” Ted said after they got the compressor in place. “Is this going to work?” “Yes!” shouted Basil over the noise of the sparking. Henry shrugged. “It looked good to me in the calculations.” “Well, I’m just a computer programmer. And a businessman. I’ll leave the engineering to you all.” Henry chuckled. He bent over to grab a large reinforced rubber hose. He connected one end to the compressor and the other end to a fitting in the hull of the ship. It connected with a snap. “Okay, Basil, I got it connected.” Basil stopped sparking and got off the platform. “Yeah, I’m done, too. Now we have to wait a while for the weldments to cool.” He reached down to the welder control panel and turned off the transformer. Henry nodded. “Well…might as well have some coffee or something.” He motioned to a small table in the far corner of the hangar. “Sounds good to me,” Basil answered. “I was starting to lose it, lying down like that and everything.” Henry yelled to Scott who was in the office. “Scott, coffee?” “Yes!” Scott bounded out of the office and followed the other three to the table. “If I have to look at one more schematic right now, I think I’m going to scream.” “Well, we’re on a bit of a schedule. We can’t take forever on this.” Scott rolled his eyes. “Yes, oh Bwana.” Ted interjected. “He’s right, you know. Anyone untrustworthy gets wind of this, schematics will be the last of your worries. Time is of the essence.” Scott grabbed a chair, sat down and poured himself some coffee from the percolator. “Anyone untrustworthy? You mean our government?” “Actually,” Ted said, “our government would be a boon for us, if it wasn’t such a personal project. However, the last thing we need is to have spies running around here, doing cloak-and-dagger shit.” 74

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Scott rolled his head, but ultimately saw Ted’s point. “Yeah, you may be right. I still don’t like this feeling of being under the gun.” “Nobody does,” Henry said. “But it will have great returns.” “You’re sounding like a businessman,” Basil commented. Henry looked down at his cup. The four sat in silence for a while. Scott took a sip from his cup. “So,” he said, “I take it we won’t be doing weekends forever on this, then.” “No,” Henry replied. “Eventually, we will have to dedicate more time to it. Ted and I discussed this in detail. We will gradually work to a schedule where we’re working more than on just weekends.” “You mean, we’ll be working on this thing daily,” Basil said. Henry nodded. Scott rolled his eyes and put his cup to his mouth. “Fun.” He took a drink. Henry cleared his throat. “I don’t expect just us working on this thing, and I will tell the others just what I’m telling you now. The other reason we’re currently just working weekends is so that people can get a feel of what we’re doing, and if they don’t want to sign on, they aren’t committed.” Scott nodded. “And those that see all this and decide to leave? What if they decide to go tell the government…any government?” “Well,” Ted answered, “if they feel up to the challenge of being in the middle of an international…incident, they can go right ahead. If they like cloak-and-dagger–” Henry interrupted. “That’s why I’m just getting people I trust.” Basil spoke. “What about Judy? You didn’t know her from beans before Ted introduced her to you.” “Okay, it’s people that Ted and I can trust.” Scott nodded. “I understand. And what about you, Ted?” He glowered skeptically at the man. “What’s your stake in this? You seem awfully committed. How do we know we can trust you? Are you in this to make capital?” Basil cleared his throat loudly. “I think I can vouch for him.” Ted shook his head. “I take it Henry never told you?” Basil and Scott looked towards Henry, who looked up from his coffee. Scott said, “No. He didn’t. What didn’t you tell us, Henry?” Henry cleared his throat and adjusted his collar. “Uh, yeah, sorry. We 75

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talked about this a month ago. He and I have similar goals with this project.” “To colonize other worlds?” Scott asked. “More than that,” Ted said. “Do you know what charities I contribute to?” “No.” “Various homeless foundations. The Veterans Administration. A few others. Mostly, I help the homeless.” A light glinted in Scott’s eye. “Ah, you’re a philanthropist! You plan on using this technology to relocate the homeless…give them a home where they can actually have a good home. Start over in a big way.” Ted nodded. “For the most part, you are correct.” Scott leaned back in his chair and took another sip. “Hmm. Is that feasible? I mean, a planet of poor people?” “No, it won’t be all ‘poor’ people, as you put it. I have issues with society as a whole, and how it doesn’t really allow for people to grow to their fullest potential. The only way to change that is to form a whole new society with these principles in mind. And that can only really be done on a distant world, as I see it.” The four sat in silence for some time. Finally, Scott asked a completely off-the-wall question: the question nobody had yet asked. “Boy or girl?” “Boy. Hendrick Gusman, Jr. Nine pounds, six ounces.” Henry grinned. “Why did it take you guys so long to ask?” “Well, we were kind of waiting for you to spill it,” Scott replied. “I was too occupied with my work,” Basil said. “Yeah, wolfing down a box of donuts,” Scott retorted. “You watch it, mister,” Basil fired back. Henry shook his head, grinning, and checked his watch. “Save the bickering, you two lovebirds. It’s time to give the ship a pressure test. I’d like to go home sometime tonight.” The other three nodded and got up from the table. Basil walked over to the compressor while the other three went behind a shield just next to the table. “Okay, Basil, set the compressor to five atmospheres and come back here.” “Okay.” Basil activated the compressor and trotted over to the shield. After about five seconds, there was a hiss from the compressor as it began 76

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to pump air into the plane. After a few minutes, there was a screeching sound of tearing metal. A rivet fired out of one of the seams and blasted a small hole through the wall of the hangar, letting a stream of sunlight pour through into the dusty building. Henry sighed. “Damn. How many atmospheres did we get up to?” Basil looked at a gauge nearby. “We got to five, but it didn’t hold.” “We’ve got to fix the breach. Where is it?” Basil cautiously got out from behind the shield and opened a valve. The compressed air started to escape with a loud hiss. “Hold on. Let me wait for the air to be released.” Henry nodded. After a couple minutes, the hissing stopped. “Okay.” Basil walked over to the plane and walked around it. He stopped near the nose. “It’s near the door. That’s where the rivet popped out. There is another breach near the window to the cockpit.” “Can you fix it?” Ted asked. “Does a bear take reading material into the woods? Of course I can. It will take a while. I’m going to have to grind down the welds and re-do them.” “How long?” “Three hours. It’s a small tear.” “No time to start like the present, I guess,” Henry said. Basil shrugged. He went over to the welder and dragged it to the other side of the jet. He put on his welding hood and started the welder. In just a couple minutes, sparks started flying. The other three got out from behind the shield and wandered around. “So,” Scott said, “now what?” “We go back to our papers and diagrams,” Henry replied. Scott smirked. “Fun.” The three went their ways in the building and go to work. Basil stopped welding for a while and grabbed a cutting tool. For the next few hours, the only sounds that could be heard in the hangar was grinding metal and electrical arcing. Henry looked up from the diagram of the warp drive and looked at the clock. “Jeez, it’s almost suppertime.” “Don’t remind me,” came Scott’s voice from the office. 77

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Basil stopped grinding and removed his safety goggles. “You can all stop bitching now. I’m done.” “Good,” said Scott as he walked back over to the shield. “Let’s get this show on the road.” “Is it cool enough already?” Henry interrupted. “Should be okay. It’s only a few small spots. That, and I’ve been grinding down some of the other welds while I waited for the repairs to cool.” Basil set the compressor back to five atmospheres and went to join the other three. The four sat in relative silence, listening to the hiss of the air and the rumbling of the compressor motor. After a few minutes, a bell went off, signifying the compressor had pressurized the ship to the desired pressure. “We’ve got five atmospheres. No leaks,” Scott noted. “Bring it up to ten.” “Uh…okay.” Basil cautiously went over to the compressor controls and made an adjustment. The hiss became louder as the pressure in the plane began to double. Basil ran back to the shield as the plane creaked a bit under the stress. Soon, the compressor stopped, and a bell went off. “Okay, ten atmospheres.” “Quiet…listen…” Henry said. They listened. Nothing. “Okay,” Henry said, “last test. I want to make sure the shell will handle any unforeseen stresses, so let’s go for a safety factor of about twenty…” “TWENTY atmospheres? Are you sure? If something blows, it will fly like a bullet. I’m not sure even this shield will help. What do you suggest we do to monitor it?” “Basil can set the pressure and we can monitor the results outside.” Henry gestured to a remote monitor. “Remote monitor. What a concept.” Scott grabbed the monitor and they all evacuated, heading down an embankment. Basil came running out just behind them, having just set the compressor to the required pressure. “You know,” he commented as he sat down on the grassy embankment, “if that plane goes, we’ve just blown five million dollars and a lot of work.” “Have a little faith, Basil. After all, it’s your work!” 78

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“True, true…so, what do we do in the meantime?” “We wait.” They waited. It seemed to go on for hours. The sun began to set when, finally, a bell went off from inside. Then there was silence. Scott looked down at the remote. “It took it. I don’t believe it!” he said. “Okay. So now what?” “Let’s leave it overnight and come back tomorrow morning. We’ll see if it holds out,” Henry replied. “Sounds good to me,” Scott responded. --September 16. Basil was the first to peek inside the hangar. He surveyed the surroundings. The jet sat silently in the middle of the giant hangar, like an alien mongrel of old and new metal. The rings of welds going around the hull of the ship gave it a strange optical effect, as if the ship wanted to move forward. Basil warily walked all the way into the hangar and crept up to the makeshift shuttle. He surveyed the hull of the ship, checking for breaches. He then went over to the gauge by the shield and looked. “A full twenty atmospheres. It didn’t leak,” he called out. Three more heads peeked through the door. Scott asked, “Is it safe?” “Yes, it’s safe.” Basil motioned for them to come in. He then released the compressed air from the ship, which escaped out the release valve with a violent hiss. Scott almost jumped out of his skin. “Jeez, Basil! Give a guy some warning!” Basil grinned broadly. “Sorry.” Henry chuckled. Scott sighed, holding his chest. “So, now what?” “Well, now comes the fun part. We have to wire the ship for all the computer systems, life support systems, propulsion systems, and so forth,” answered Henry 79

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“Yay,” Scott retorted. “And so forth. Fun. And how long will that take?” Henry cleared his throat. “Well, that’s where it gets interesting. We now have to start thinking about putting more time into the work.” Basil interrupted. “I’d like to state, for the record, that I have been working pretty much full time on this thing for the past two months.” Henry smirked at Basil. “And we appreciate that. And that’s what I’m going to be asking. Right now, maybe only three days a week. We’ll see what the progress is like. It’s going to take time to get it right. And, I suspect, by April or May 2008, we’ll be ready for the final phase.” Scott circled his hand in a get on with it fashion. “And that is…?” “Testing the matter/antimatter prototype.” Henry then proceeded to tell them the reason behind the scheduling. Scott stood with his mouth hanging open. “Oh, yay, some of that cloakand-dagger shit we were promised. I take it once we get a successful prototype, we’ll have to be booking it before every spy and his dog start crawling all over the place.” Ted spoke. “I think I can field this one. The big problem is Henry kind of stirred up some government attention when he was looking for help with his theories. Right now it seems to be quiet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they get active once we test the prototype.” Scott raised both eyebrows in astonishment. “Why would that cause a problem?” “Considering the state of the world, and how nervous the government is about terrorists with nuclear weapons, there’s always the chance that they may pick up on residual radiation created by the prototype.” “Great!” Scott shouted, throwing his arms up. “I’d love to be on the FBI’s top ten wanted list, just for a little science experiment!” “Well,” Ted responded, calmly, “that’s why we have to move once we test the prototype.” “And if the government picks up this ‘residual radiation?’ Or the damn thing just fails altogether?” Ted leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and thought in silence. “Christ,” Scott exclaimed, “I hate it when he does that!” “Shhh!” Basil chided. Henry spoke quietly. “Scott, if that were to happen, we’d just have to get 80

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out of here, pronto. It’s the whole reason we’re saving the prototype for last. And if the test does fail, or we have some other issue with the shuttle, we may have to move someplace more secure until we fix the problem, but that’d cost more money.” Scott hung his mouth open in disbelief. “So why the fuck aren’t…” Basil raised a finger to his lips. Scott sighed and continued quietly. “So why aren’t we in a secure spot now? Ted is loaded, right?” Ted finally spoke. “Because I don’t want to spend extra money looking for two secure locations, just in case one of the people who helps us does decide to become a leak. Then both locations would be compromised and I’ll have wasted a large wad of money. I don’t like to waste my money.” Scott shook his head. “So, you’ve come up with a decision?” Ted nodded. “If necessary, I can get us a secure location somewhere. I guess I should start looking, although I plan on keeping its location to myself for now. We can use it as an alternative base for when we start transporting people to the colony, too. When the time comes, and we test the prototype, come pass or fail, it just won’t matter.” Scott sighed. “Yeah, maybe.” Basil spoke. “You aren’t thinking of backing out, are you, Scott?” Scott smirked at Basil. “I’ve got too much invested in this thing myself.” He sighed again. “I guess I’m just concerned. Seems like playing with fire to me, but what you say makes sense, about waiting on the final test. But how are we going to know it works?” “Well,” Henry explained, “Judy is working on that right now. So far, it looks good.” --February 19, 2008. The phone rang on Henry’s desk. Henry jumped, just being shaken from work, and fumbled for the phone, accidentally knocking some papers to the floor. “G&T Enterp–” “Hey, Henry. It’s Judy.” 81

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“Oh, hello. What’s up?” “I have good news. After dedicated testing, I’ve found that your interpretation of the warp drive does, in fact, contain and utilize gravitons. I was able to harness the graviton using matter/antimatter annihilation. And I was even able to find it’s virtual pair!” Henry leaned back. “Wow.” See? Henry leaped. “Ahh!” “What?” Judy asked. “Uh, nothing. Just an old complaint.” “Hmm. Well, anyway, now that we know phase 3 is possible…” “Yeah. We have to actually test a prototype. When do you think we can do the test?” “I’ll need to get some help building it, but I should have a working prototype for testing by mid-May.” “All right. I’ll let everyone know. Later!” He hung up the phone, his heart hammering in his throat. He felt like for the first time in a while, things were really beginning to look bright. Sure, most of the shuttle was done, but Judy’s work was the key item, and without it, the entire project would fail. Now that the required particles had been discovered and harnessed, things could progress. He felt that, if all went well, they could be flying to a new world in a matter of a few months. But there still was the test. If that failed… Henry shoved the pessimistic thought out of his mind. Keeping a sense of optimism, he picked up the phone and called Scott. The phone rang for a while, then Scott picked up. “Dr. Kingman’s office. Speak now or–” “Scott! We’re ready! We’re going to start work again on the fourteenth of May.” “Really. Judy was successful?” “Yep.” Henry couldn’t help hide the pride in his voice. “Cool. I really had my doubts, but it looks like things are coming along. I’ll be there. I gotta go, now. I’m preparing midterm exams. Fortunately, the fourteenth will be right after the end of term, so I’ll have to let the department know that I need to take a sabbatical. Anyway. Later.” 82

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“Later.” Henry hung up. He opened a spreadsheet on his computer, which listed several people both he and Ted knew. It was now time to begin seeing who could come and who couldn’t, and give them enough time to prepare.

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Experiment V May 19, 2008. Somewhere in the Nevada desert. The truck bounced over the knoll, hurtling towards where Scott and Basil were standing. An electromagnetic shield, coupled with monitoring equipment, had been placed facing out towards where the truck just came from. The truck skidded to a stop behind where the shield had been set up. Henry and Ted stepped out. Basil peered through a set of binoculars, looking from where the truck came. “Where in hell did you set up the particle splitter/collector?” he asked, looking a bit puzzled. “Out there, about twenty miles from here,” answered Henry. He gestured out towards the arid plain, scattered with dry shrubbery. “Is that going to be far enough?” “Yep.” Ted grabbed a soda and opened it to drink. He spoke. “We hope.” “How much antimatter did the cyclonic generator give us again?” Scott asked. “Zero-point-one nanograms. More than enough.” Henry reached over to the control panel and positioned his finger above a red button. “Ready?” “As much as we’re going to be,” Scott said. Basil and Ted nodded. Henry pushed the button. 84

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The four crowded around the readout display to see what was going on. The readout began to show a chart, depicting how much force the miniengine was releasing. “Pretty good. At this rate, we could fuel the ship for quite a while. Scott, monitoring any unusual radiation?” Scott peered at some monitors. “No. It’s perfectly calm. And I’m registering an increasing amount of gravitons. The collector seems to be doing its job.” The test continued on, uneventful, for another hour. “Henry,” Basil asked, “how much now?” “Enough to propel an airplane around the world at top speed. It’s rather amazing, the amount of energy within the particles of an atom…” An alarm sounded on one of the panels. Ted gingerly raised his hand. “Uh, folks, I don’t want to spoil the fun, but what does that alarm mean?” Henry leaned over one of the consoles and looked at the readout. “Uh oh.” Basil put his empty can next to a nearby boulder and sighed. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?” Henry explained the alarm. “For some reason, the gravitons being created by the reaction are accumulating around the device instead of dissipating like I had hoped. I believe a combination of the atmosphere and the electromagnetic controls of the device itself is creating a pocket - similar to the pocket used by the warp drive. So it’s causing a warping effect, and the device isn’t handling it well.” Scott screamed, “Isn’t handling it well?! What the fuck does that mean?” “Well, there is speculation that it was a mini black hole that caused the Tonguska explosion in the Siberian forest at the turn of the century–” “Black hole?” Scott almost screeched. “You mean…” Basil put his hand over his eyes. “He means it’s going to blow up.” Scott ducked below the makeshift shield and glared at Henry, horrified. “Damn it, I just knew it! How big of an explosion will it be?” Henry scratched his head. “As big as the Tonguska blast, probably.” “Ugh.” Scott shifted around in discomfort. “So…how long until it goes off?” 85

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“It looks like it could go any moment. Everyone, just keep down! The shield will protect us.” “We hope.” Basil said. Just as everyone took cover, there was a bright flash of light and an incredible explosion. After the noise and rumbling had subsided, the four looked out into the desert. A huge mushroom-shaped cloud rose into the sky. Scott shook in barely controlled terror. “Oh, God, we’re in for it now.” Henry cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, we’ll manage somehow.” Scott stared at Henry, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Ookaaay…” He turned back to the mushroom cloud. Henry looked down at the monitor. “Wow. That’s a lot of energy.” “No shit,” noted Scott, still transfixed by the mushroom cloud. “We’ll need to have Judy work on the flow control design some more, I fear,” Ted interjected. “Those gravitons, as she explained it, should’ve vented away from the device.” Basil asked, “Uh, how much energy did that thing create?” “Plenty. We could run the ship for about a year with how much fuel we have back at home.” “That’s enough for us, isn’t it?” Ted asked. “Yes. Scott, what did you pick up on the radiation scanner?” Scott swallowed, pried himself away from the telltale sign of their disaster, then peered at the screens on some of the equipment nearby. “A lot of infrared…not much in the way of gamma, which is interesting.” Ted reached around for his cola, finding the can crushed. “Hey, what the…” He held up his soda can, almost perfectly flattened lengthwise. Scott peered at the oddity. “Looks like someone laid the can on its side and stepped on it.” Basil glanced skeptically at Henry. “The explosion?” Basil asked. “Yes. In the explosion, the gravitons must have been released in a great quantity.” “Why didn’t we get smashed?” Henry scratched his head. “I guess the radiation shield protected us. It does have an electromagnetic shield on it.” “Based on your containment design?” “Yeah.” 86

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“Well,” Scott said, leaning back on the shield, “at least you prepared for every possible outcome. Almost.” There was a moment of silence, as the quartet sat in the dusty air, staring at each other. Finally, Basil finally looked towards Henry and spoke. “I hope you did cover our tracks really good.” Henry nodded. “Come on, let’s get moving. I’m sure someone will come and investigate soon. Basil, help me get this shield on the truck. Scott, open the tailgate!” Basil scurried and grabbed the other end of the large device. Scott pulled on the lever on the tailgate, but it wouldn’t budge. Looking at the rear of the truck, it looked like it had been rammed into, just slightly. “Those gravitons of yours messed up the rear of the truck, Henry. You’ll have to heave it over.” “Damn.” Basil and Henry strained and pushed the shield over the tailgate. It slid into the back and landed with a thud. Ted and Scott then grabbed the monitoring equipment and threw it in behind. Scott and Ted jumped in the back of the truck. Scott yelled, “ Go! Go!” Henry jumped in the driver’s seat, slammed the door, started the truck and gunned it down the dirt road. In a couple minutes, they were on the highway, heading east into the darkening horizon. “Good thing we set up camp so close to the highway,” Basil noted. “Good thing it’s almost sunset,” Scott yelled from the back. Henry nodded. “Hey, Scott,” he yelled back, “do you see anything?” Scott surveyed the horizon. “No. Not yet, anyway.” Henry sighed, his hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. “Why don’t you go faster?” Basil inquired. “Because we’d end up looking suspicious. Someone speeding down the highway away from the explosion site? How do you think that would look?” “Like someone scared shitless.” “Henry!” Scott yelled. “I see two helicopters coming over the horizon from the south!” “Shit,” mumbled Henry. The sun started going down behind the mountains. “Henry!” Scott hollered. “Where are they now, Scott?”

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“Moving towards our observation point, I guess. Jesus, Henry, can’t this thing go any faster?” “What are they doing?” “Damn it, I can’t tell! Just hovering there, I guess.” “Basil,” Henry requested, “grab the binoculars from under the seat and pass it through the rear window.” Basil unbuckled his seat belt and fished around beneath the seat. “Got it.” He clambered around and held them out the window. “Scott!” Scott turned around and grabbed the binoculars. He then turned back and propped himself on the covered shield. “Looks like they’re over where we were located. One of them is landing nearby, while the other is up in the air, observing. I don’t think they can see us.” “Good,” answered Henry. “Hold on.” He punched the accelerator. The tires squealed loudly on the pavement as the truck lurched forward. “Shit!” Scott fumbled the binoculars. They fell on the other side of the shield and came to a clattering halt by the tailgate. Scott climbed over the shield and reached for the binoculars. He picked them up and inspected them. “Damn it! Good thing they aren’t broken.” “Sorry,” Henry called back. Scott got back in position and put the binoculars back up to his eyes. “Fuck!” Henry pushed the accelerator harder, and the truck sped up. “What? What?” “One of the helicopters is coming this way!” “And the other one?” “Going the other way.” Ted made an observation. “The highway. They’re searching the highway. They’re thinking it’s the only way we could’ve gone from where we were. If we took a dirt road, there’d be some dust left in the air.” Henry nodded nervously. “How far from the hotel?” “Only a few more miles.” Henry yelled, “Hey, everyone, get your disguises on! We haven’t got much time!” Scott jumped to the rear window and reached behind the seat, grabbing a long-haired wig and a mustache. “I’m gonna look like a freaking hippie.” 88

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“We’re rock musicians, Scott. Get into the part,” ordered Henry. Scott mumbled obscenities under his breath and put spirit gum on his upper lip. Basil grabbed his wig and a leather jacket with spikes on it. “Really, though, Henry, couldn’t we have selected better disguises? I feel like a dork.” “Well,” Henry noted, “considering that many rockers come this way on their way to California, this was probably the most mundane disguise. Better than the idea of bankers. Bankers? In the middle of the desert? Without a bank for miles?” “Well…we’re just on our way to California.” Basil shook his head and reached for the leather pants. “Besides, I look terrible in leather.” “Bankers take planes, Basil. They can afford it. Besides,” Henry continued, “I did research. Lots of strange people travel through here, so we really shouldn’t stand out.” He quickly added, “Too much.” The truck neared a small community. Partially rusted roofs stuck out of the occasional group of desert vegetation. “We’re almost there, guys,” Henry announced. He pulled off the side of the road. “What are you doing?” Scott screamed. “Putting on my disguise.” He grabbed a large ten-gallon hat and a babyblue western jacket from behind the seat. “Oh, Christ,” Scott sighed. Henry jumped out of the truck and put his new clothes on. He reached back into his sack and produced a prosthetic nose. He mashed it onto his face and smoothed it on. He turned to the crowd in the back of the truck. “How do I look?” Ted shook his head. “Like a cowboy version of W. C. Fields with a bad case of leprosy.” “Oh.” Henry looked in the mirror and saw the nose was half off of his face. “Damn.” He grabbed some spirit gum and pasted it around his nose. He then smoothed it back on and grabbed a little makeup. He turned back. “Better?” “As good as it’s going to get,” Scott said. He turned back to the west and watched through the binoculars. The sun had almost completely set, and a cool breeze picked up from the south. “Henry, they’re probably ten miles away. Let’s get OUT of here!” 89

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Henry leaped back into the truck and gunned it into the small village. He slowed down and gingerly pulled into the parking lot of an old beat-up hotel. “Come on, let’s go in. And act casual.” “Casual. Sure. In this get-up?” Scott retorted. He and Ted leaped out of the back and quickly covered the shield with a tarp. Basil squirmed out of the passenger seat and adjusted his leather pants. “God, I hate leather!” “Relax, Basil. Okay, everyone, deep breath.” The four breathed deeply. “Okay. Rock musicians. On a mystical desert journey. That’s what we are. Act the part. But don’t overdo it.” “Rock musicians always overdo it, Henry,” Scott commented. “That’s just a stereotype, Scott.” Scott gestured to his outfit. “And this isn’t?” Henry shrugged and walked into the lobby. The old wooden floors creaked under everyone’s weight. A woman sat at the counter, pouring over a large book. The four walked past her towards the stairs. The woman never looked up. The four proceeded up the stairs, turned the corner, and opened up their rooms. “Whew,” breathed Basil. He walked into the east-facing room with Henry. Scott and Ted went into the room on the other side of the hallway. Scott immediately stripped off his wig, locked the door behind him, turned off the lights and peered out the window. Ted made a remark as he climbed onto the bed, covered with moth-eaten blankets. “Gee, you like this cloak-and-dagger stuff, eh?” “Shh!” Scott put the binoculars back up to his face and watched. “Jesus! They’re almost on top of us!” There was a knock on the door. Ted and Scott jumped and stared at the door. Silence. “It’s me, Henry.” Ted went over and unlocked the door. Henry walked in. “What’s going on?” Henry asked. “Shh!” Scott chided. They listened. 90

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Basil walked in, listening, peering at the ceiling. The sound of whirling propeller blades grew louder as the helicopter approached. Scott watched out the window as the helicopter, with its searchlight blazing, passed overhead. He watched it go by in the binoculars. “Getting a good view, Scott?” Henry joked. Scott ran past Henry and shot him a baleful glare. Scott went into the room across the hall and turned out the light. The other three followed him. Outside, the helicopter landed on the edge of the street in the middle of the town, about five hundred feet from the hotel. About eight soldiers jumped out and dispersed in different directions, remaining in pairs. Two guards remained by the helicopter. “Oh, fuck,” Scott exclaimed. “They know we’re here!” “Not so,” Ted explained. “If they knew exactly where we were, they’d all be coming towards the hotel. I only see two coming this way.” “But they know we’re in this town!” “Shh!” Basil warned. “They’re getting closer.” The four watched below as the two soldiers came toward the building. They started peering in the vehicles parked outside. “Oh, we’re screwed,” worried Scott. “Shh!” the other three warned. The soldiers came up to the pickup and looked around it. One of them peeked under the tarp covering the radiation shield, then put it back down. The soldiers continued down the line of cars. Scott stood bolt upright. “Christ, are they dense?” he exclaimed. Henry and Basil grabbed Scott and pulled him back down. “Shh!!” The two soldiers below finished the line of cars. They nodded at each other, and one talked into a headset. “Looks like we’re okay,” Henry commented. “Oh, really?” Scott responded. He pointed below. The two soldiers walked into the lobby below. The four men retreated from the window and sat up against the wall, in panic. They exchanged glances for a few seconds, then darted out of the room and clambered towards the corner of the hallway. They watched down the stairway and listened. “Excuse me, ma’am,” someone said, “have you seen any suspicious 91

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characters come in within the past half hour?” Silence. “Who owns that blue pickup outside?” Henry and Scott stared at each other in terror. “Just a few rock musicians. They arrived just this morning. I guess they’re going to Hollywood or something,” replied a female voice. “Did they ever tell you what that device is underneath the tarp?” “Some kind of amplifier. They say it’s part of their show.” Another female voice chimed in, this one deeper. “Where are they staying?” “Rooms 11 and 12, upstairs.” The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. The four ducked back around the corner and looked at each other, horrified. “Quick,” Henry whispered, “go back to your rooms and…do something musical.” “Like scream?” Scott asked. “Grimace musically. Strum your guitars. Whatever. Don’t let on. Tell them we heard something, and it kind of spooked us, because we didn’t know what it was.” He motioned towards the rooms. The four split up and went to their rooms, shutting the doors as quietly as possible. Scott put his wig back on, then grabbed a guitar and fiddled with it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. We’re dead.” Ted shot Scott a reproachful look. “Henry said, ‘keep cool.’” Scott shook his head and fidgeted some more. The sound of footfall could be heard outside, coming down the hallway. They stopped, right outside the door. A knock. Ted steadied himself, grabbed a nearby bottle of scotch, took a large gulp, splashed a little liquor on himself for good measure, and swaggered over to the door. He opened it. “Yeah, what’s up?” Scott strummed his guitar. A rather cacophonous sound emanated from it. The male soldier outside grimaced notably, from a combination of the 92

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smell and Scott’s lack of musical talent. “Uh, yeah. You are musicians?” “Yeah, man,” Scott slurred. “Uh huh. Did you arrive here within the past half hour?” “Yeah, man.” “Okay. Where were you and what were you doing?” “Hey, man, we were out having a joy ride, you know, out in the desert. We were going to hook up our wires and jam and groove with the animals but some weird thing happened and it kinda spooked us, man. I mean, it just wasn’t groooovy, ma-a-an…” “Ah, I see.” The soldier looked around. He looked at Ted, still standing by the door, who had his eyes half-closed, looking like he was stoned. The soldier took a whiff and immediately cringed. “Uh, yeah. Well, have a nice night.” “Hey, man, you wanna dig my strings?” Scott got up, leaped around and started banging on the guitar. “GreeeEEEAAAAGGGHHHH!” “No, no, that’s quite alright,” said the soldier, backing away. He turned to the woman behind him, who just finished talking to the Henry and Basil in the other room. They talked to each other quietly for a moment, then walked back down the hall. The voice of the man could be heard. “Captain, nothing here. We thought we had something, but it turned out to just be a group of punks…” Ted rolled his eyes. “Jeez, if only the members of the board of directors could see this, I’d never live it down.” He looked at Scott, inquisitively. “‘Groooooovy, ma-a-an’? What kind of shit was that?” Scott shrugged. “Hey. Henry said to act the part.” Henry stepped out of his room. “Yeah, but I also said, ‘don’t overdo it.’ Christ, I thought they were torturing you in there. What in hell was that noise?” Ted stayed Henry. “Don’t ask. It’s better if you don’t know.” The four stood in the hallway for a minute, looking at each other. Then, in unison, they scrambled back into Henry’s room and peered out the window again. All they could see were the two guards next to the helicopter, its rotor still turning. “I wonder where all the other soldiers are,” Basil said.

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Henry shrugged. “Don’t think it matters. So far, we escaped with our skins still attached.” “So far,” reminded Ted. The four sat in silence and watched out the window. After a moment, Ted tapped Henry on the shoulder and motioned to him that he wanted to speak privately with him. Henry followed to the far corner of the room, while Scott and Basil continued to observe the activity outside. The sky had turned a dark shade of blue, and stars started appearing in the sky. The searchlight on the helicopter reflected diffused light off the ground, casting an eerie glow around the area. After about fifteen more minutes of silence, eight soldiers seemingly came out of nowhere and converged on the helicopter. All ten climbed back into the helicopter, and the helicopter’s rotors started spinning with more speed. Soon, it lifted off the ground and headed further down the highway, its searchlight scanning the ground below. Scott and Basil breathed a sigh of relief. “Gods,” exclaimed Scott, “I thought they had us there.” Ted nodded from across the room. “Did you notice they were taking down license numbers off of the vehicles earlier, before they entered the hotel?” Scott nodded. “We’re going to have to ditch the truck,” noted Basil. --“To the left! To the left, damn it!” screams the young captain. The driver pulls a lever, and the tank lurches to the left, tossing its passengers about. “Christ, Sergeant, watch what you’re doing!” “Sorry, sir.” A shell explodes outside, shaking the metal beast. “That one was close. Corporal, have you acquired a target?” “Not yet, sir,” responds the gunner. Another shell explodes, this one closer. “Well, damn it, hurry up!” 94

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“Got it, sir. Iraqi tank, seven hundred yards.” “Shoot it!” A shell hits the tank, making a loud ringing sound. The people inside get thrashed about. The driver bangs his head against an obstruction overhead. “Shit!” The gun fires, rattling the tank. Another shell hits the tank, making another ringing sound. Sparks seem to fly out of various panels, and smoke begins to fill the chamber. One more shell–one more ringing–and the corporal goes flying, his head striking a nearby protrusion. Blood flows from his head, and he grimaces. For good measure, he hollers out his complaint. “For God’s sake, would you answer that damn phone!” he exclaims. Phone? The general bolted upright in bed. The phone rang again. He rubbed his bald head, and wiped the sweat from his wrinkled brow. The sounds of explosions and yelling seemed to continue to echo and swirl in his foggy mind. He swayed a bit, trying to regain his bearings, trying to remember where and when he was. The phone rang again. The woman in curlers next to him rolled over slightly and glared at the man. “Honey! I said, answer the phone!” “Uh, right.” The general reached over and picked up the receiver. “Yeah, General McGowan.” He listened. “Say what!?” He listened some more, his face etched in a deep frown. “Lieutenant, I want a full written report first thing tomorrow morning. Give me details. I want to know everything that has been done. Who else has been told?” He listened. “That’s all? Good. No sense making a big press issue about this. We’re going to have to do some serious damage control. If the media gets a hold of this, it’ll be hysteria.” He listened. “Yeah, I’m on my way. Goodbye.” He hung up. “Shit. Just my luck. Just got to sleep.” The woman next to him turned all the way over and leaned on her arm. “What is it, dear?” “Don’t go telling anyone this. Someone exploded an unauthorized nuclear device in the Nevada desert just one hour ago.” 95

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The woman’s mouth hung open like a dead fish. “Yeah, exactly,” the general said. He pulled himself out of bed and rummaged around for his slippers. “I gotta go to the office and start doing damage control. If the media gets hold of this, they’ll have a field day.” --May 20. The Pentagon. A tall, young Army lieutenant dashed into a large, plush office towards a desk. He had brown hair, cropped close to the scalp, and pale blue eyes. For being a junior officer, his face seemed etched with years of trials, making him seem at least five years older than he really was. The lieutenant stopped, gathered himself, and walked smartly up to an old, mahogany desk. A brass and wood nameplate, sitting next to an old-fashioned inkwell and pen, identified the desk as G. W. McGowan’s desk. Behind it, there was a tall, leather chair, turned facing the window. It was raining outside. “Here is the detailed report on the estimated 6 million ton blast registered north of the Yucca Flats region, sir,” the lieutenant breathed out. He stood before the desk as rigid as a board. The chair slowly turned from the window. The general stopped his turn and faced the lieutenant, reclining in the chair. He tipped his aviator-style glasses down his nose a bit, revealing bloodshot eyes, and examined the lieutenant. He nodded. “Hmmm…” The general held out his large hand and received the paperwork. He then looked over the material for a few minutes, scratched his head, and dropped the file flatly on the otherwise neat desk. He grunted, then said, “Any leads on who set this atomic explosion off?” “No, sir.” The general grunted again. “Well…?” “Yes, sir.” “Dismissed.” The general waved his hand at the door, shooing the young officer away. The lieutenant saluted and left, closing the door behind him. The general turned his chair back towards the window, watching the storm leave its wet, glistening blanket upon the landscape of the city. He sat 96

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there in silence for a few minutes, pondering what next had to be done, what needed to be said, before it was too late. He spun quickly back to his desk, and jammed his finger on an intercom button. “Get me the President.” “Yes, sir,” a female voice answered. The general leaned back in his chair a little and rummaged through the reports. He was quite expectant and, especially, nervous about the whole deal. “The President for you on line one,” a voice called over the speaker. “Thank you.” He picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Hello, Mr. President? This is Major General George McGowan. I have before me a report over that explosion in Nevada.” A pause as he listened to the President. “Yes, sir. Six megatons, approximately.” Another pause. “No, only a few people know about the blast.” Another pause. “Only me, a lieutenant who is helping to research the incident, the crew who surveyed the crater, and the townsfolk who heard the blast. There are a few small towns in the vicinity that we’re checking for leads, but I believe they don’t know what’s going on. Also, the geology site that picked up the seismic disturbance created by the blast only know of the seismic disturbance. We’ve only told them that a meteor crashed into the surface, to the best of our knowledge.” Another short pause. “No, sir, the townsfolk only heard the blast. They have no idea what happened. Neither does the survey team.” More pause. “We’re trying to find out who did it right now. The report states that there is physical evidence of an atomic blast, but there is no residual radiation.” A pause. “I understand the international implications if the other nations suspect us of testing nuclear devices again. I also realize what the American public will think if terrorists have detonated such a device on American soil. Lieutenant Shoeffer, one of the finest members of my staff, is researching the incident right now, and all our available resources are covering up the whole affair.” A pause. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” McGowan hung up. “Carla, get me Shoeffer.” “Yes, sir,” replied the voice in the box. General McGowan leaned back in his chair and thought a billion thoughts at once. Who were these people who detonated a nuclear device in Nevada? Were they terrorists? Fundamentalists? What was their agenda? When were they going to issue their demands? Were they going to issue demands? 97

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Where were they from? How did they get that kind of technology? Six megatons–that kind of power should only be reserved for the most advanced missile warheads. How did they get it? Where did they get it? What were they going to do next? A drop of water fell on his shirt, and the general realized he was sweating. He fumbled for a handkerchief out of one of the desk drawers and wiped his forehead, when the intercom lit up again. “Lieutenant Shoeffer on line two, sir,” addressed the speaker. “Thank you, Carla.” The general dropped his handkerchief next to the report and picked up the phone. “Lieutenant, I just talked to the President and he is uptight about the whole deal. Our meteor story is only going to hold for so long. Thankfully, the press hasn’t gotten into it yet, but you know that will only last for a short while. Now get back to work. We need to get this resolved pronto.” “Yes, sir.” “Oh, hold on a minute. Whatever you do, don’t tell anybody what you are researching. Do not even mention the blast. Remember, I’m trying to help keep this as quiet as I can, and not get the press or…other activities involved in this.” “Yes, sir.” “Good luck.” McGowan put the receiver back on the hook. He opened one of the many drawers in his desk and pulled out a large manila envelope. He shoved the reports inside and sealed the envelope. He then pushed a few buttons on his computer, evidently making some notes or finishing a report. He finally turned and looked back out the window. He could see, even in the early morning light, where the repairs had been made after the plane crash almost seven years ago. Thinking about it made him shudder. He would do everything in his power to find these criminals, no matter what it took. No terrorists would get their way, not on his watch.

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VI May 21. Back at the hangar. Henry stepped out of the car. He looked at a familiar red car next to his own and smiled. As if on cue, Sarah walked out of the office door, holding the hand of a toddler. Henry smiled, but it slowly faded as he saw her face. “What’s wrong?” Sarah folded her arms and scowled. “What’s wrong? You almost got yourself killed, that’s what’s wrong.” “I’m–” “I’m not done yet,” she interrupted. “And I don’t approve of you leaving me here like that, knowing what you were going to do and what you could face.” “I didn’t want you in any danger should things go wrong.” “Well, things did, didn’t they? It’s only by some act of God that you aren’t in a prison right now, if not dead! And what about our son?” She gestured to the boy, who was currently sucking on a finger. She sighed and shook her head. “I should’ve known better. Teaming up with you was going to be a roller coaster ride, and it’s proven to be so thus far.” “So why do you put up with me?” Henry sheepishly asked. “Dumb ass,” she replied, “I keep you around for the sex, you know that.” She gave him an evil grin and ran up to him. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Your friends are inside waiting.”

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“Are you staying?” “Nope…Junior’s got a doctor’s appointment. I’ll see you tonight, though. Oh, and before I forget. Tomorrow, the runt and I are going to see Grandma for three days. It’ll probably be the last chance he’ll get to see her, if you know what I mean.” Henry nodded. She grinned, gave Henry one more kiss, and went to her car. She put the toddler in the child seat in the back, then went to her side of the car. She opened the door, turned to Henry and blew a kiss before getting in and closing the door behind her. The car started and backed out of its parking spot. Henry watched and waved as she drove down the road and out of sight. Henry sighed deeply. He walked into the office and out into the hangar. He stopped, looked at the shuttle, and admired it. Henry went up to the shuttle, climbed up the narrow ladder and entered. He examined the airlock system just inside the door. Then, he walked into the main passageway and glanced into the cockpit. Scott was inside, working on a computer panel. “Crowded,” Henry said, making a superfluous observation. Scott nodded silently, and grabbed a soldering iron. Henry turned and walked down the passageway toward the rear of the craft, stopping at a small hole in the floor just big enough for a person to squeeze through. He grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder leading down, and started climbing into the lower level of the craft. He ducked down and followed the cramped passageway to another door. He pressed a button and it opened with a hiss. He stepped inside. Inside, it was a maze of machinery, reaching from the belly of the craft up to the top–almost thirty feet. Henry squeezed through the machinery until he stopped at a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a large box-like structure. “Basil?” A muffle voice responded. “Yeah, what’s up?” “Just got back from the G&T office. I wanted to see how things were going and how I could help.” “Not much you can do right now. You’ve finished arranging for all the provisions?” “Yeah.” 100

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Sounds of tinkering echoed from underneath the machine. “Is this the recycler?” “Yeah,” Basil responded. “Judy is up above, putting the finishing touches on the matter/antimatter power system.” “She’s working on the MAMPS?” “Yeah.” Henry looked up and called out. “Judy?” “Yeah?” came a voice from somewhere. “How’s it coming?” Rattling metal was heard, as the woman walked on the catwalk above. She came around a corner and looked down, pushing her blond hair out of her face. “It’s a mess in here. It’s so damn cramped. I hope all this works.” Basil chimed in. “It should. We’ve run simulation after simulation on the computer in the cockpit. All we need to do is smooth everything out.” Judy nodded and went back behind one of the propulsion cyclotrons. Henry surveyed the surroundings again. “Very crowded.” “Good observation, Captain Obvious,” Basil said. He chuckled slightly. Henry turned towards the forward end of the compartment, listening as someone clattered down the ladder. Silence. Then the door opened with a hiss. Ted stepped through carrying a can of soda, and was immediately followed by Scott. Ted placed the can on a nearby piece of equipment and readied himself to deliver his news. “Well,” he said, and put his hands on his hips. “The special task force leader is called Major General George W. McGowan. They got hot real quick, which is no surprise. The military is, so far, thinking of calling in the FBI, but right now, it’s strictly a military effort. They’re combing the area around our observation site, making inquiries. There’s about seven or eight communities within easy reach of where we were, and they’re going through them in detail. My contacts haven’t caught wind of them finding anything yet, so I think we’ve got some time.” Henry nodded. “Is that all?” “No.” Ted took a breath. “There have been inquiries from other countries about the explosion. Our government is denying any real knowledge about the blast. So far, the media hasn’t really jumped on it…yet…but they will. The rumor mill tells me the government is going to use the story that it’s 101

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another Tonguska blast, or even a meteor, which may or may not fly with the press, but who knows?” Basil chuckled from underneath the recycler, and continued to tinker. Henry nodded. “Well, that’s not too bad of news. Sounds like the government is trying to keep things quiet.” “They have to, or there’ll be panic in the streets. The rumor mill can go the other way, and soon people will think there are terrorists running around with nuclear devices,” Ted noted. Henry looked down at the grating and leaned against a conduit. From above, Judy yelped in warning. “Don’t lean against that!” Henry lurched from the conduit and looked. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” He sighed. “So, now what?” Basil inquired. Ted shrugged. “Not sure. We bide our time. They don’t have a lead on us yet, so that gives us some leeway. I’d say three weeks, tops.” “What about a secure landing site, if we need one?” Henry asked. Ted shrugged again. “It’s difficult finding a perfect spot. Right now, I’m looking at northern Pakistan, near the Kush mountain region. There’s another potential site in the desert Southwest. That reminds me…” Ted began to grin. Henry looked at him quizzically. “What?” “Here’s my suggestion. What do you think the odds are of us getting off this planet before the government finds us?” Basil snorted with a heavy dose of skepticism. “Slim.” Ted nodded. “What do you think will be the odds if we had two ships?” Henry became lost in thought while the other two looked at Ted in disbelief. “You’re shitting me,” Scott finally responded. “It’s taken us forever to just get this piece of junk even close to being done.” He jabbed a finger at the propulsion plant. “How do you think–” Ted raised his hand in a gesture for silence. “I have it taken care of. Don’t forget…I’m rich. I went and bought another plane that can be done up to survive in the vacuum of space.” “But we still–” “I’m not done yet!” Ted barked. He cleared his throat. “After 102

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the…experiment, I called my brother, Travis, and had him arrange for the jet and for workers to work on it.” Basil chimed in. “That doesn’t make sense. We’ve been going small scale with the Explorer so we won’t get any attention. What do you think will happen when you go whole hog on a second ship with lots of people over whom we have no ability to silence?” Ted smirked. “Does it matter? I mean, haven’t we already attracted plenty of attention?” Basil looked away and shrugged. Ted nodded and hummed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Even if the attention does get directed to us, it is in our best interest to have a backup. I’m also sending for more people to help here. If you’re concerned about our ‘secret technology’ getting out, I can assure you that the only people who will be working on the engines for the second ship are hand-picked by me. They have also voiced an interest in coming with us.” Scott leaped up. “You’re insane! What gives you the fucking right to go out and spread our mission to any Joe Blow on the street? Why in hell didn’t you clear it with us first?” “He did clear it with me…kind of,” Henry responded. Scott looked dumbfounded, and his mouth hung open as if his cause for rage was suddenly stripped away, and replaced with disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell us?” “Haven’t really had the opportunity up until now, now have I? We talked about it some while those troops were looking for us in Nevada, and again on the flight back. He originally asked me if he could select some people to help us get our project off the ground, and I said yes. Then he suggested the second ship, and it made sense. He’s right. We’ve attracted a shitload of attention, so it really doesn’t do us much good to tiptoe around anymore…except for here. The second ship…in Seattle, I believe?” He looked at Ted. Ted nodded. “Yeah. The second ship will not likely be linked to here, since nobody there knows about us except for a select few. For all the people know in Seattle, they’re just souping up Ted’s newest personal jet.” Basil maintained a skeptical stance. “You think they’re gonna buy that?” 103

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Ted nodded. “They will. Even if they do ask why they’re reinforcing the hull and putting in those so-far empty compartments, they’re more likely to attribute it to the crazy whim of an eccentric billionaire than to an interstellar escape plot that’s attracted government interest.” He paused for a moment and took a drink of soda. “Besides,” he said, choking down the bubbly liquid, “my close friends in Seattle will make sure that’s what they think. Then, once the hull work is done, I’ve got ten people who will finish the work by June 6. Then they’ll bring it here, we load it up, and get out of here the next day. Easy.” “If the Explorer flies,” Basil reminded. Ted nodded. “We’re going to fly the Explorer in four days, once we get the propulsion system ready.” Henry scratched his head a bit. “Guess we’ll have to set a departure date for June 7, then, if that’s when the second ship will be here.” “That would be my recommendation.” Henry wandered around the cramped engineering space. “So…you say they’re doing a detailed investigation of the towns nearby the blast?” Ted nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, there are seven small towns within striking distance of where we were, so I suspect that’s where they’ll be looking.” --May 21. North of Yucca Flats, Nevada. The blue government car slowed to a halt outside an old hotel. The dust kicked up by the car was carried by the wind, down the street. Lieutenant Shoeffer stepped out of the front passenger seat and opened the rear door for the general. The general stepped out and dusted himself off. An olive-drab jeep pulled up behind and four Army soldiers jumped out. They formed up behind the general and the lieutenant. “How many podunk towns have we checked?” the general asked. “This is the seventh, sir, not including various isolated homes in the area.” The general grunted. “Damn it. This is taking way too long. The trail is getting too cold. All the hotels and inns have had no notable business during the period of the incident.” 104

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“Understood, sir. Well, if this town doesn’t pan out…” “We’re out of luck. I understand that, Lieutenant.” The general surveyed the dilapidated building. “Hmm. Seems like an ideal place to check in, unnoticed.” The lieutenant nodded in agreement. “You say there was a report of four rock musicians here?” The lieutenant nodded. “Yes. The soldiers who investigated only noted their existence. They made no other note, other than the license plates on the vehicles outside.” The general grunted, and pushed open the door. “I’m sure other people were staying here, as well. Do you know why those soldiers singled these musicians out?” The group stepped inside and surveyed the surroundings. “Negative, sir. It’s not in the report. There were five vehicles parked outside. The report doesn’t even mention which vehicle belonged to the rock musicians.” “Damn them. Nice and thorough. I’ll have to speak to their commander. Well, it’s a lead, even if it isn’t a very good one. May as well go with it and see what we get.” The general spied the desk and began to walk towards it. “Yes, sir.” McGowan stopped at the desk, and began to ask the clerk questions. “Do you remember the names of four strangers that came here last week?” “No, sir.” “Would you have any records?” “Lemme get the lady who owns the place. She’ll have them.” The clerk left the lobby and disappeared down a dark hallway. Within five minutes, he was back with a nice-looking young lady. “Madam, do you have any records of guests who stayed here between May 15 and 19?” the general inquired. “Yes, sir. Right here.” The lady walked over to an old-fashioned safe, dialed the combination, and opened it. Inside were books and some money. She pulled out one of the larger books and thumbed through it. “We had three families that were here for three days, leaving yesterday. Rock hounds, I believe. Then there were four guests who checked in on May 19 and left the next day…” “Let me see.” The general took the book from the woman, fished inside 105

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his jacket for his glasses and put them on. He began to read the record book. “Ah. These must be those rock musicians?” The woman looked at where the general was pointing in the book and nodded. “Yes. And not very good, either.” She grimaced. The general and the lieutenant looked at each other. “Really. Not very good,” the general said, slowly and deliberately, as if to send a hidden message to the lieutenant. The lieutenant smiled knowingly. The general put the book on the desk, took out a pad and a pen and wrote the four names down. “Did you see what they were driving?” The woman folded her arms and frowned, staring at the desk. “I believe they had an old, blue pickup. The plates should be in the register.” She pointed at the appropriate spot in the register. “Ah, I see that.” He wrote down the license plate number. “Did they say where they came from and where they were going to?” The woman shook her head. “They didn’t say much.” “Were they…here all day the nineteenth?” “No. They checked in, stayed a while, then left later that morning, carrying their instruments. I suspect they came back sometime before a couple soldiers arrived, inquiring about them, because I noticed their truck was back. No clue where they had been, though.” “I see. Well, thank you for your cooperation” “No problem.” The general and his people left. Once outside, the general stopped on the wooden walkway and turned to the lieutenant. He tore off the page from his pad and handed it to the lieutenant. “Get right on this when we get back.” “Yes, sir.” --May 22. A soldier entered the tiny office, made even tinier by the two small desks crammed into it. “Anything, sir?” Lieutenant Shoeffer looked up from his somewhat larger desk at the 106

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skinny technical sergeant. He sighed. “They left fake names. Damn it! This is really starting to piss me off.” “What about credit card numbers? Didn’t they–” “No, they didn’t! They paid in cash, remember? Very smart people. I have to admit, this whole thing is really starting to worry me. Without a good paper trail, it could take months to find out who did it. And that could prove bad.” The lieutenant wiped his brow, fretting about what could happen if these people decided to detonate a similar device in a city. His stomach twisted at the though of it. “What’s really weird is that there is no uranium or plutonium unaccounted for anywhere. So how did they do it? Unless they somehow smuggled the radioactive material in, and that speaks ill of our nation’s port security.” “Well, at least nobody has made any demands…” “Considering we’re talking about detonating a nuclear device? There’ll be no demands. They’ll have only one thing on their minds.” The lieutenant shuddered. The technical sergeant nodded, turned back to his computer terminal, and typed away on the keyboard some more. The phone rang. The lieutenant picked up the receiver. “Hello, this is Lieutenan…Oh, good afternoon, General. No, sir, the names were fake, and they paid their hotel bill in cash.” A pause. “The license plate? Oh, yes. Hold on a second, sir.” The lieutenant rummaged through some reports. “Yes, sir, we’ve investigated the license plate of the vehicle the subjects used. It used to belong to someone in Las Vegas. When I questioned the previous owner, he described the same four people sighted at the hotel. Seems they bought the clunker with cash as well. They did not re-register the truck under any other name. He described the four people as rock musicians–just like the inn keeper did. We found the vehicle, and I got the Las Vegas crime lab involved. They found some evidence that suggests the people involved are from New England. Specifically Maine. We haven’t found anything else, yet, though. The crime lab said they’d have more for us in a couple days.” Sounds could be heard out of the earpiece, and the lieutenant jerked the phone away from his ear, and winced. He gingerly put the phone back to his head. “I understand the gravity of the situation, and I’ll forward your concerns to the Las Vegas police department. We’re also trying other approaches.” A 107

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pause. “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” He hung up, and sighed. “The general seems quite upset about this, doesn’t he?” “Yes, he does. I can’t blame him.” The two continued to pour through records and witness accounts for a while longer, struggling to find a meaningful connection. Finally, the lieutenant spoke up. “I have to take a break. I’ll be back in a bit.” The sergeant nodded, and the lieutenant left. The sergeant continued to type away on the keyboard, taking notes. When the phone rang, he stopped his work to pick up the receiver. “Lieutenant Shoeffer’s office, this is Technical Sergeant Glenn speaking.” He listened. “Tell me that again, inspector?” He grabbed a pen and started taking notes. “No, there’s no need for that. We can handle that at this end.” He listened some more. “Uh, huh. Thank you. You, too.” He hung up. The lieutenant walked back in with his coffee. The sergeant leaped out of his chair, clutching the note, almost bowling the officer over. “Jesus, Sergeant…” “Sorry, sir. We just got a call from the Las Vegas crime lab. There was a corner from a business card in the truck. They were able to match some of the pattern on the card with a known company logo.” “Yeah?” “Yes, sir. Digisoft. We don’t have a name, but it’s a start. We just have to see who was away from the company around the nineteenth.” “Do it!” The lieutenant leaped over to his phone and contacted his boss. “General, I think we may be on to something.” --May 22. Henry double-checked the list. “Okay, so we have what again?” “Um…” Scott read his list. “For each ship…engineers…. a physicist…chemist, biologist, computer programmer…” Ted nodded. “Don’t forget Lex Fisher. He’s my personal pilot. I’m sure his flying skills will come in handy.” Henry nodded. “Sounds good to me.” 108

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Scott also acknowledged Ted with a nod as he continued down the list. “Uh…let’s see what else.” He quickly scanned the list a little more and stopped to stare at something on it. He grinned a little. “What?” Henry asked. “Another civil engineer. Andy.” He pointed to the name on the list. “I used to know him from elementary school. Weirdo…dreamer…a lot like you, actually.” Henry smirked at Scott. “Cute.” Scott grinned back and continued with the list. “Carpenter, stonecutter…Almost everything on the list. I don’t think we have an artist, though. I’m not sure if it is really all that necessary. Or a musician, either. The wives and husbands of the engineers and the like…some of them play music.” Henry nodded. “I understand, but don’t forget, we may be a while in space. I’d like to have some people there who can uplift the morale of everyone else. That is very important.” Basil made a comment. “How about a writer or an art teacher, and his or her wife? On each ship?” Scott nodded. “I suppose so. Ted? Do you know any art teachers?” “I used to dabble in art, but that’s it. I’m sure most of us have. Same goes for a musician or painter or whatever you want to bring with us. I’m sure most people have some talent in it.” “Yes, but not enough to really teach it. I not only want people who know what they do, but can teach it. If we’re going to form our own civilization, we have to be able to do that,” Henry responded. Ted nodded. “I suppose you’re right. But I don’t know any artists, musicians, or what not. Scott? Basil?” They both shook their heads. Henry leaned back in his chair and grabbed his soda. “Hmm.” The four sat in silence, thinking. “How many people do we have right now, total?” Scott asked. “Lemme look.” Henry silently counted his list. “Ninety-six. If we find two artists to round out the tally, and they are married, that would make an even hundred.” “Which is all the two ships can support,” Basil commented. “We still have to go through a list of alternates.” 109

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The group nodded in agreement. They sat a while longer in silence, thinking about their options. Basil rocked in his chair; it made a rhythmic squeaking sound. Henry jerked forward in his chair in a sudden burst of recollection. “I’ve got it!” Ted jumped in surprise. “What? What?” “Wait right here. I’ve got something to show you.” Henry smacked himself in the head as he left the dusty hangar office, mumbling, “I should’ve remembered…” The remainder of the troupe looked at each other quizzically. “What do you think he’s got?” Scott asked. Basil leaned back in the rocking chair, which made a pronounced squeak. “I’m not sure. But I’m sure we’ll find out.” The three sat in silence for a while, waiting. “Any more news on the Pentagon?” Scott asked. “Nope. Same situation. If they’ve found anything new, they’re keeping things under wraps,” Ted responded. “I’ve told everyone who I’ve already contacted to keep quiet if someone starts asking them questions, considering the implications if they find us before we can leave.” Scott nodded. “What if their silence isn’t enough? What if they’re…well, arrested?” Ted hummed. “Perhaps we should set up safe locations, so people can be staged there before departure. I’ll have to get on that, pronto.” “Do you think we’ll find anything…” Basil pointed skyward, “…out there?” Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. Ask the visionary. He got this entire project from a dream, for the most part. Maybe he knows where to go.” Basil made a comment, coming totally out of the blue. “Am I the only one who finds it odd that he wants an equal representation from all walks of life on this ship? For example, why can’t we pick up art teachers on a return trip?” Ted said, “Henry discussed that with me. It’s in case we make a crash landing and can’t make a return trip.” Basil and Scott turned to look at each other with some trepidation. “I don’t like the sound of that,” Basil replied. 110

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“I imagine such a setback would be only temporary, but long-lasting enough to ensure that we’d need as many different kinds of people as possible for at least a generation, maybe two,” Ted postulated. “It would be wise to have a body of knowledge that spanned more than just physics and engineering. And, personally, I think certain talents are genetic. If we have people with us that are genetically inclined towards music and art, that would make a civilization a little more richer. Don’t you think?” Sounds of footsteps could be heard coming from out in the main part of the hangar. “Listen,” Scott said. They listened. The footsteps became louder. Henry stepped in with a flat package wrapped in brown paper. “This is it. I had it stowed in a closet up here. I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten this. Do you remember the story I told you about how I came up with all…this?” He gestured around him. “Many times,” Scott said smugly, as he leaned back in the chair. Henry nodded. “What I didn’t tell you was the details. About the glowing man. Him handing me the box with the plans in it.” Scott nodded. “You may have mentioned it, I think.” Henry shrugged. “Well, take a look at this!” He grabbed a corner of the brown paper and tore it wide open. It was The Gift. The three other people leaned forward and gaped. “Jumping Jesus!” Ted exclaimed. Henry nodded. “Yes. The very same.” Scott frowned. “Who painted this?” “Someone I met during the Fourth of July, a couple years ago. His name is Harry. He’s an artist…has been one for…uh…twenty years, I believe he said. Mostly has done it on his free time, up until about six years ago. He does a lot of good work. And he teaches.” “I see,” Basil commented. “Is he married?” Scott asked. “We’d be closer to a full house.” Henry shrugged. “I don’t know. I have his address, though.” He walked over to the desk and rummaged around in one of the drawers. “Aha. Here it is; 735 Ludlow Street. I’ll give him a call.”

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--Henry stared at the mailbox in the blowing wind. He shivered and bunched his raincoat around him tighter. The numbers read “73” and some other number he couldn’t make out. He looked at a neighboring box that read “731.” “Hmm. Well, I’m on the right side of the street, at least.” There was a door stoop within an alcove on the front of the house, just freshly swept. The walkway was apparently forgotten. He stepped onto the soaked grass towards the alcove. Water immediately soaked through the sides of his shoes, and Henry cursed. Henry walked up to the steps beneath the alcove and realized that the walkway was coming from another direction. He sighed to himself as he pressed the buzzer. A quick gust of wind whipped across the open lawn, blowing rain in Henry’s face. A middle-aged woman opened the door. “Yes? How can I help you?” “Hi. You don’t know me, but I met a man who claimed he lived here. He’s an art teacher.” “Oh, Harry. Yes, he’s my husband.” Thank God, Henry thought. “Come in, come in,” the lady beckoned. She opened the old screen door, which immediately was taken by the wind and slammed against the side of the house. “Oh, blast.” Henry commented, “Love these spring rain storms.” He climbed the three concrete steps, banging his boots on the way up to rid them of the mud. He stepped inside the small but cozy living room. Paintings hung almost everywhere. “Harry is in the back room, working on a painting. I’ll let him know you are here.” Henry nodded. The woman walked into a hallway and turned a corner, leaving his sight. Henry wandered around the apartment living room, taking in the surroundings. The place was well kept. There did not seem to be a television, but there was a computer in the corner, across from the fireplace. He wandered over to the bookshelves, as was his custom, and browsed through the titles. They ranged everywhere from Shakespeare to physics to

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some esoteric stuff on “soul” travel, or some such thing. Henry shrugged it off. “Hey, how’s it going? Haven’t seen you in…what…almost two years?” Henry turned around quickly. Henry could’ve sworn he wore the same paint-stained clothes when they first met. “Oh, hi, Harry. Yeah, sorry I never got back to you. I’ve been rather busy with my own projects.” Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Hey, no sweat. Have you come to look at more of my work?” Henry squirmed a little. Damn it, I’ve done this with other people, and I still can’t get used to asking this question, he mused. “Uh, yeah, kind of.” “Well, come on in to the back room. I’ll show you some of the new stuff I’m working on. Trish, mind making some tea?” “You read my mind,” Trish laughed. Harry nodded in agreement. He motioned Henry to follow him. “Come on.” Henry followed the man into the hallway and turned the corner. Harry opened the door and stepped in. Henry entered right behind. The odor of oil paint and turpentine instantly came to him quite strongly. He looked around in awe. “Good grief! You’ve been busy!” “Yeah, well, when the weather’s bad, as it seems to frequently be, there’s not much else to do. That, and it has been almost two years since we last met. I have to admit, though, I’ve been the busiest in the past month. Especially those over there.” He pointed to some dark paintings. Henry peered. In many of the paintings, there were a lot of men. Most of the men carried guns. One picture showed a tank pointing its muzzle directly at the viewer. They gave Henry the shivers. “Creepy.” Harry nodded. “Well, these particular images came recently. Wait a minute.” He reached around one of the easels to a desk. He grabbed a large binder and opened it. He flipped through for a while. “Aha. Just a few days ago. May 19.” Henry cringed, recognizing the date. “That’s nice.” Is this guy like Elizabeth, he quickly pondered, considering the uncanny coincidence between Harry’s recent ‘inspiration’ and the date of Henry’s…accident. Harry shrugged. “Well…” Harry stopped for a second, looking up at the 113

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ceiling in thought. “No, never mind.” He turned around and put the large blue binder back on the hidden desk. “Saw it in a dream, I take it?” Harry nodded. “Hey, I’ll show you one of my favorites. Here…” He pointed to a pastoral scene. More accurately, it had a large, beautiful bay in it that seemed to be made of sparkling blue crystals. An island was in the background, and some mountains dominated the skyscape. “Very nice,” Henry commented. “Thank you.” Henry cleared his throat. “Uh, okay. Um, I have a question for you. I know this is way out of the blue, but…” “You want me to go with you to another world.” Henry leaped at his statement. This guy is like Elizabeth…but more so. He could feel the heat come to his ears and cheeks. “Uhm…” “Hey, thought you’d never ask. My wife and I really don’t have any attachments here. Frankly, we’ve spent most of our lives learning this.” Henry raised an eyebrow. “How did you know…” “…But that’s another story.” Harry quickly changed the subject. “Do you know when you want to leave?” Henry recollected his thoughts, then shrugged. “We’re in a bit of a spot. We did a little…experiment that went awry, and now we’ve piqued the Pentagon’s interest.” “Oops.” Henry nodded. “Yeah, oops. We may leave at a moment’s notice, but I don’t plan on leaving until early June. We’re doing our best to cover our tracks.” Harry nodded. “Well, I’m going to have to ask my wife. Wait here.” Henry nodded, then spoke, trying to ask his question again. “Say, how did you know?” Harry raised his hand, palm out, as if to say “stop.” “Don’t ask. Not now. I’ll be back.” He left. Henry breathed out loudly, realizing just how tense he was. He tried to relax a bit. He looked at the rest of the paintings. He took another look at the impressionistic rendering of the tank, and shuddered. His focus shifted to just behind the painting and he saw another bookshelf. Being a bit of a 114

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bookworm, he made his way behind the paintings and looked through the books. It was another eclectic collection ranging from the most concrete to the absolutely esoteric. One of the esoteric works grabbed his attention, so he picked it out and looked it over. He flipped it over to the back and saw the image of Harry in a corner on the bottom of the cover. Henry frowned a bit, wondering. The title had to do with eagles. “Ahem.” Henry dropped the book with a thump and spun around, almost knocking over a painting. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” “That’s quite all right.” Harry walked up to him. He motioned to the esoteric collection. “That’s all a part of my past, but it is part of my present and future, too, I suppose. It would take quite a bit of explaining.” Henry nodded. He looked around a little, and Henry twitched his head, as if hearing something. “What?” “You know, I was noticing that it’s awfully warm in here. Do you have an electric heater? I can hear something humming.” “No electric heating, just the fireplace out there in the living room.” Harry stood quietly for a while longer, listening. He then smiled ever so slowly. “Hmm.” “So what is it? Do you hear it? What is it?” Harry shook himself a bit. “Oh. Not sure.” He turned away, smiling a bit. “This house seems to have a life of its own, I’d say.” Henry gave a confused look, then shrugged it off. Trish was in the doorway. “What does your wife say?” “Well, tell you what,” Harry said. “Why don’t we come to your place where you can explain it all. Is that quite alright?” Henry nodded. “I don’t see it as a problem.” --Scott took a sip of cocoa. “He’s been a while.” Basil nodded as he stoked the fire in the stove. The heat picked up and radiated throughout the entire small living room. “Yeah. Well, Orton is quite a ways from here.” 115

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“It’s only fifteen minutes!” Basil shrugged. Then his attention shifted to something outside. “Wait.” They listened. The sound of tires crunching on gravel could be heard. Ted got up and went into the dining area. He peered out the window. “It’s him. He’s got…two people with him. A man and a woman.” Scott grinned. “Excellent. We can fill one ship now!” Basil shrugged. “Maybe.” He put the poker away and closed the hatch to the stove, shaking his hand from the heat. “Man, that’s hot.” “Well, it’s not exactly yet summer outside, you know.” Scott retorted. Basil smirked. “Yeah,” Ted continued. He squinted a bit, trying to see through the sheet of rain. “A man and a woman. They’re getting out of the car now and coming up the walkway.” Scott got up from the easy chair. “Let’s go greet them.” Basil and Ted looked at Scott. “At the door, you twits, not outside.” They nodded. Scott went through the kitchen and opened the door. The three outside were kicking their boots on the steps as they came up. “Hey, I assume this is the artist you told us about?” Henry nodded and shook the mud off his boots. “Yes.” Basil and Ted came into the kitchen. “Harry…” and to the woman “…and Trish. This is Scott…Basil…and Ted.” He motioned to the three men. Harry extended his hand to each. “Glad to meet all of you.” “Likewise,” Scott said. Basil spoke. “Did they agree to come along?” “Well,” Henry said, “they want to hear more about it.” “Can’t say I blame them,” Ted said. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall by the phone, and smirked. Henry huffed. Scott said, “Come, we’ve got some cocoa going. Want some?” “That would be lovely!” Trish said. They walked into the dining room and sat down.

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“So,” Henry said, folding his arms on the table, “what would you like to know?” --The couple quietly talked amongst themselves in the kitchen. The four others sat in the dining room and tried to listen. “What do you think?” Scott whispered. Henry shrugged. “I don’t know.” The hushed voices continued in the kitchen. Scott leaned back in his chair to see if he could catch a hint of anything. “I’d think being told that they’d have to pretty much drop everything and disappear now, effectively, would be a major show-stopper.” Henry shrugged again. “Something tells me they’ll come.” Ted squinted questioningly at Henry. “What makes you so sure? They asked a lot of questions, and they didn’t seem too thrilled with the subject of being cooped up in a metal cigar for God-knows how long. Do you realize how many people both of us had to go through just to get the ninety-six– including us–we have now?” “And we still have to find alternates,” Ted reminded. Henry shrugged. He opted to not tell him of the paintings he had seen at Harry’s house–deep down, he felt having someone on board with talents similar to Elizabeth would be a good idea. He regretted that Elizabeth declined to sign up for the adventure, and believed that maybe it was fate that a replacement like Harry should fall into his lap. Why such a thing should happen, he could not say for certain, so he just kept the subject quiet. “I don’t know why I’m so sure,” he responded. Basil snorted. “For being our fearless leader with all this new technology, you sure don’t know much, do you?” Scott and Ted snickered. Henry smirked at the trio. “Har har.” The couple walked back into the dining room. “Okay,” Harry said, “we’ll do it.”

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VII May 24, 2008. 7:02 A.M. Henry wiggled around in the captain’s chair a bit, to get used to the feel of it. He finally settled in, and began to think about the massive responsibility that would be weighing on his shoulders. Once they gave the Explorer its test run today, if it worked, they would move ahead to building the second one…just in case. Henry sighed and slumped down in the vinyl-padded chair. “You come back safe, okay?” Sarah said. She was standing next to him, holding Junior’s hand. “We will. What are you two going to do while we’re out?” “Going into town, at first. Maybe stop for some i-c-e-c-r-e-a-m,” she spelled out, winking. Henry chuckled, looking down at his son. He was checking everything out, the index finger of his free hand in his mouth. “And what’s that?” he quickly asked, pointing to the station in front and to the right of Henry. “That’s the…that’s where Scott flies the ship,” Henry explained. “I’ll tell you more when we get back, okay, squirt?” “Okay,” he conceded. “You go have fun with your mum.” He looked up at Sarah. “Love you.” “Back at you.” She leaned over and gave Henry a long kiss. She stood back up. “Come on, monster.” She led the boy out of the cockpit. Henry sighed deeply and stared out the forward viewport to the open

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hangar doors beyond. The morning light shone on the field and runway outside. He watched the breeze shift the leaves on the trees on the other side of the runway, and sighed again. “Something bothering you?” Ted asked from behind. Henry jumped and looked behind him. “God, Ted, you scared the shit out of me!” Ted smirked and shrugged. “Sorry. I just got done making sure everything was nailed down before we start floating in space. So, what’s ailing you?” Henry looked down at the floor. “I can’t help but feel that something’s going to go awry.” “Your plans looked good, and the test we did in Nevada proved your theory will work. Now all we have to do is make sure the systems work together.” Henry shook his head sadly. “Not what I meant.” “Oh.” Ted leaned against a bulkhead. “You think the government is going to find us before we can get out of here.” Henry nodded. Ted shrugged. “That would suck, wouldn’t it?” He sighed. The two remained silent for a bit, pondering their dilemma. Yes, the second ship would increase the odds of at least some people getting off the ground. Yes, if both got off the ground, they could double the number of people to take with them. If they found that the propulsion system worked as it should in a real-time environment–not just in some uncontrolled experiment that just happened to put them in this predicament–everything should be fine, save finding a hospitable planet to colonize. Once they tested the propulsion system, they would then finish and test the peripheral equipment, such as shields and the recycling system, and then the team finishing the second ship could follow suit. Unless. Unless the government found them before they could complete their project. Unless the government found them before they could finish the second ship. Then it would be all over. That thought reminded Henry of something. “Say…have you…” Ted picked up on what Henry was about to ask. “I’ve heard nothing about what the task force is doing. I did set up several safe locations for 119

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people to go to, telling them when to expect a departure. Most of them weren’t too keen on having to leave their homes a few weeks early, until I told them of the alternative. For some, they left just in time.” Henry frowned, not liking the sound of that last bit. “What do you mean?” “I mean, federal agents have been seen snooping around the residences of our selectees. One family had forgotten something and was getting ready to go back home to fetch what they forgot, when they noticed a couple suits at their door. They drove on by and didn’t stop. So they seem to know where to start looking, and that makes me nervous. My residential staff at my mansion haven’t had any visitors, so whatever list the government has must be incomplete. But it could still pose problems.” “Any idea how many of our people they’ve tried to visit?” Ted shook his head. “I don’t have access to that kind of knowledge. Anything going on in the inner circle is hidden from me. I just get broad updates, unfortunately. My contacts risk enough doing that alone. They get most of their information by scuttlebutt, so I’m hoping that what I learn is at least somewhat accurate. Something else that causes me heartburn, but it’s better than nothing. Sometimes, they get lucky. “ Henry and Ted turned and looked aft when they heard the airlock hiss closed. Scott walked into the cockpit, stood straight up and saluted. “All ready for departure, SIR!” Ted shook his head. “O-kaay…” Henry turned to the front of the shuttle. “Well, let’s get it warmed up.” “Right!” Scott sat in the copilot’s chair and Ted sat next to him. “Uh…”Henry shifted nervously. “Ted…do you know how to fly?” Ted turned to Henry and looked at him, as if shocked that Henry should ask such a dumb question. “Duh. I own my own plane, remember?” “Oh. Yeah.” Henry settled back in his seat and pushed a button on the left arm of the chair. “Basil?” “I’m here,” a voice answered back. “Everything looks okay so far.” “Okay,” Henry said. “Take her out.” Ted pushed forward on the secondary throttle and the shuttle slowly taxied out of the hangar and onto the tarmac outside. It followed the steady guidance of Ted’s controls and moved out onto the runway. It pointed its 120

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nose down the runway and stopped. Ted looked back at Henry. “Ready?” Henry nodded. Ted pushed all the way forward on the secondary throttle. The electromagnetic coils whined and the shuttle began to bolt forward at an alarming rate of speed. Ted, taken aback by the immense speed, began to lose control of the steering. Henry slid about in his chair, in spite of the restraints. “Geez, Ted, take it easy!” “I’m…trying!” Ted grunted and manhandled the joystick until he could get it steady. He pulled back on the stick and the shuttle rocketed skyward, straight and true. He breathed a large sigh of relief. “You okay?” Henry asked. “Yeah.” Ted wiped the sweat from his brow. “I didn’t expect it to go like that!” “Didn’t you read the reports? Hell, you remember when we first met, right? Where I showed you the prototype of the electromagnetic engine?” “No and yes, in that order.” Ted settled back down and leveled the flight path. “Okay, we’re at an altitude of only two hundred feet. You sure that’s safe, Henry?” “Has to be. We don’t want to appear on any radar until we’re far enough away. Then we go straight up.” An image of a pancake raced through Scott’s mind. “You think we can handle the G’s? I mean, they have to train astronauts to handle that kind of stuff.” “We’ll manage,” Henry assured. “How far away are we from our base?” Scott looked at a monitor. “Not far enough. Only about ten miles.” “Speed it up, Ted.” Ted sighed and adjusted the master throttle. The shuttle bolted forward, shaking everyone up a bit. Basil’s voice broke over the intercom. “What the hell you guys doing? I’m going to lose my lunch back here!” “Sorry, Basil. We’re just working the bugs out.” “Well, take it easy, okay? I almost went flying into a control panel!” Basil disconnected. 121

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They flew in silence, occasionally adjusting their altitude to avoid the small hills. The trees passed below them in a maddening blur. Scott started to turn a little green. “Ugh.” He looked at the monitor. “Thirty miles. Good enough?” Henry sighed. “Yeah, that’ll do. Flying this close to the surface can be a bit frightening, and I’m sure we’re scaring whatever people there are below us.” Ted heard the order, pulled back on the stick and opened up the throttle some more. The ship pitched backward and rocketed towards the sky. The intercom crackled again. “Hey!!! Give a guy some warning!” Henry grimaced. “Ted, that was a bit premature.” “You said, ‘Yeah, that’ll do.’” Henry grimaced again, but not from any comment. “Ugh. I feel like I’m being sat on by an elephant. How much acceleration are we getting, Scott?” Scott managed to turn his head towards the monitor. “About 60 miles per second squared. That’s two G’s.” Henry watched the blue sky before him, struggling with the additional force placed upon his body. He suddenly had the urge to urinate, and wondered if it was due to fear or pressure on his bladder. Within seconds, the blue became darker, and the view was only briefly obscured by the white of a high cloud. As the navy blue turned to black, bespeckled with stars, the cockpit became exceedingly quiet, except for the occasional gasp. The ship began to maintain a steady speed, releasing its occupants from the grip of the force of acceleration. “My God,” Scott breathed. Henry cleared his throat. “Uh, how far up are we?” Scott stared out at space before him, completely oblivious to Henry’s request. “Scott? Hello? Earth to Scott, come in, please.” “Huh? Oh, sorry.” Flustered, Scott turned to the monitor and checked the shuttle’s altitude. “Uh, ninety-one miles and climbing.” Henry nodded silently. “Let me know when we’re in an orbit of, say three hundred miles. Were we noticed?” Scott shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe.” He checked the monitor. “No one came after us, anyway.” 122

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“Hope it’s a good sign.” Scott nodded silently. The bridge crew sat in silence as the Explorer slowly moved away from the giant blue and white sphere behind it. Scott continued to watch the status monitor, waiting for the moment when they would cease their ascent from Earth and prepare for the next and final phase of the experiment. Ted fidgeted with a loose piece of rubber on the control stick to either pass the time or somehow create an outlet for his nervousness. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on the four people inside the makeshift spacecraft, and they all knew that millions of dollars–not to mention four lives and the greatest dream ever known by humankind–rode on the success of the test. The silence continued like an expansive void, seemingly swallowing up even the normal humming noises of the electronics in the bridge. Finally, one single beep rose up against the stillness. Scott looked at the readout. “Three hundred,” he said, hesitantly. Henry nodded solemnly. He rubbed his stomach as the feeling of something writhing inside intensified, and then suddenly let out one loud belch. Ted and Scott turned and look at Henry, their faces pinched. “Sorry.” He put his hand to his mouth. “Nerves.” “Understandable,” Ted said. He turned back to the front. Henry pushed the intercom button. “Are we ready, Basil?” “Y…yeah. I’ve run all the tests. The MAMPS is fully operational. Guess it’s time to see if theory can be put into practice.” Henry sighed. The fluttery feeling inside his innards intensified even more– whether it was from the microgravity or nerves, he was not sure. “All right. Scott, plot a course above the solar pole, at a distance of ten light minutes from the sun. We’re going to run at light speed for one minute and get a baseline for higher speeds.” “Gotcha.” He plugged information into the navigational computer. “Is that where we’re going to deploy the satellite?” Henry nodded. “Should be detectable from anywhere locally in the galaxy. At least, for as far as we’re going. And then, when we get back to Earth, we can see if it works, too. We may be able to make a transmitter relay from something similar.” 123

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“Modulating voice over a graviton wave? Sounds far fetched. But,” Scott shrugged, “what else is new?” “Okay, start the count.” “All right…course is locked in…” Scott started the count. “Thirty seconds.” “Run our last minute checks. Hull stress?” Scott looked at the mock-up of the ship, covered with green lights. “Looks good.” “Coolant?” Scott looked at the monitor. “Good.” “MAMPS?” “Good.” “Fuel core?” “Good.” “Emergency shutdown?” Scott gulped quietly. “Yeah, it’s good. Hope we don’t have to use it.” Ted scratched his head, as if thinking about something. “Something up, Ted?” Henry asked. “Ten seconds!” Scott warned. “I’ll tell you later, Henry.” “Final checks.” “All golden,” Scott answered. “Three…two…one…” Scott activated the warp field with the fateful push of a single button. Immediately, the ship began to shimmy, and a loud whine was heard, followed by a series of slow, muffled, evenly-spaced explosions. “I hope that’s normal.” The explosions increased in speed and diminished in volume, until there was only a gentle rumble. Basil’s voice came in over the intercom. “The warp field is a little…loose. That’s why we’re shimmying. I’m recalibrating the field. So far, everything else is coming up roses.” Henry and the other two suddenly gasped as they looked before them, seeing something never seen before by a human; only imagined. The stars in the sky began to turn blue and suddenly seemed a lot closer. 124

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Scott looked away and read the monitor. “Speed is point-four-ex,” Scott read out. Four-tenths the speed of light. Henry just nodded dumbfoundedly. Ted quietly asked a question, just barely audible over the sounds of the MAMPS rumbling. “Wonder what happens once we breach the light barrier?” They sat in silence, watching as the stars became a more brighter blue, as if the stars were painted on the inside of a sphere, and now the edge of the sphere was being squashed towards them. A bell went off just as the stars turned bluer and bluer. Scott looked at the monitor. “Here we go!” There was a bright flash of light, and everyone had to shield their eyes. Cautiously, one by one, they lowered their hands. Now, all there was were stars before them, but of a fiery blue–almost like a mottled field of bright blue. Ted said, “I was wondering about that.” “Well,” Henry finally said, “that was…interesting.” “No kidding,” Scott said. He swiveled his chair around. “So…now what?” Henry shrugged. “The computer should’ve started the countdown the instant we made threshold. We wait for the navigational computer to disengage us. It runs on dead reckoning, combined with information we know about gravitational forces in the area.” “In theory,” Ted said, watching the view in front of him. Henry sighed. “In theory. Well, in theory, this ship was supposed to fly, and it did.” The ship suddenly started shuddering again, and the starfield before them flickered, flashed brightly, and slowly returned to normal. Basil’s voice boomed out of the cabin speaker. “Okay, that was one-ex for one minute. I’m setting a baseline for power output.” Henry nodded. “See where we are.” Scott squinted at the monitor. “From the spot we last tracked ourselves before we went to light speed…one light minute. On the nose. Amazing.” Henry nodded. “Okay. Basil, double our power output. Let’s see what that gives us. One minute.” “Right.” The speaker popped. 125

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Scott checked the course. “We’re still on course.” “Okay. Thirty seconds?” Scott nodded. The three went through their checklist one more time before launching the second part of this phase of the test. Scott looked at the ‘board.’ Above some of the green lights on the mock-up were a couple flashing yellow lights. “We had some stress from the gravitational effect of the field, but nothing major. Probably from that shimmying. It’s all back to normal.” He pushed the “Clear” button and the second set of lights went dark. The count continued. “Three…two…one…” Scott activated the drive. Once again came the sound of a whine, followed by a series of explosions, gradually speeding up in frequency until one couldn’t distinguish between each report. “Guess that is normal,” Scott noted. “What’s that?” Ted turned to Scott. “That banging and rumbling. Must drive Basil nuts.” Henry hummed. The trio immediately clammed up once the light show began. Ted was the only one to break the silence. “Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this.” The other two just stared in silence. Then, there was a beep. “Uh oh,” Henry said. He immediately prepared his eyes for the inevitable. Ted and Scott followed suit. Flash! “That’s kind of annoying,” Scott remarked. He lowered his hand from his eyes and blinked repeatedly. “Hmm,” Ted replied in agreement. Henry scrunched down in his chair and waited for the minute to be up. He sighed deeply. Scott swiveled around. “What?” Ted turned his head to observe. “Feels funny. That’s the best way to describe it. It’s like from a dream. I still can’t quite wrap my brain around it.” Scott nodded knowingly, understanding precisely what Henry was feeling. “Same here. It’s good to see the propulsion system works. Now it’s just a matter of how fast we can get going.” Silence once again gripped the compartment as Scott and Henry stared 126

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at the floor of the cockpit, deep in their thoughts about the events that had taken place. Ted faced forward again and watched for the telltale sign of dropping out of light speed. Several seconds passed until the stars flashed and returned to normal. Scott looked at the monitor and waited for the sensors to determine where they were. “Good God,” he finally gasped. Henry’s heart lurched, and his stomach felt like it dropped to the floor. “Wh…what is it?” Scott pushed a button for access to the intercom. “Basil?” “Yeah?” replied a crackly voice. “You only doubled our power output, right?” “Yeah? Why?” “We went a bit farther than two light minutes. Try eight. And that’s not including the distance we traveled during the acceleration/deceleration phases. We’ve actually landed in position, give or take a few thousand miles.” “No kidding? Hmm.” Silence, except for some quiet clicking and a quiet hiss of static from the speaker. “Hmph. Wanna take a gamble and bet that our velocity is proportional to the cube of the power we put out?” Scott rolled his eyes. “Layman’s terms, Basil.” “That means,” the voice replied, “that the ship is going faster than we originally thought. For example, if we use a power factor of two, our speed is actually eight times the speed of light. For a power factor of three, our speed is twenty-seven-ex. Follow?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Sounds promising,” Henry stated. Basil continued. “Yeah. And I don’t readily know exactly how much power we can get out of the drive, either. I’ve projected our maximum power output to be about five to six times what it takes to get to light speed. If it holds true, we would be booking it across the galaxy!” For some reason, that caused Henry a bit of anxiety. “Can we hold a steady warp field at that rate?” “Don’t know. But I’ll tell you this. It must mean that the field isn’t just, well, like a shell of gravitons or what not, but actually a volume. As you increase a volume by any amount in all directions, the overall volume cubes. 127

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Generically speaking. You double the length of the sides of a cube, you increase the volume by eight. Double the radius of a sphere? You increase the volume by eight. And so forth.” “We get the picture,” Scott droned. Henry sat up in the chair after propping up his head in the palm of his hand. “Ted, get us up to a speed so we’re orbiting the sun.” Ted nodded silently and calculated the necessary speed in a nearby terminal. “Okay. Got it.” He brought up the master throttle, and everyone was suddenly pushed into their chair. Scott frowned. “Don’t get it. We use the electromagnetic engines, and we fall prey to inertia. Why not the light drive?” “The light drive operates on the principle that we remain stationary in a pocket of space that is being propelled along. The ship itself doesn’t really move.” Scott shrugged. “How long, Ted?” “Give it half a minute.” Henry nodded. Almost half a minute went by before Ted throttled down. The effect of inertia went away. Scott unstrapped himself and groped for a hand-hold. “This weightlessness is a real pain. I’ll be glad when we can get artificial gravity going. We don’t have much time to get it done, either.” Henry nodded. Actually, he was surprised he didn’t throw up once they got into space. Probably explained the weird butterfly feeling he had earlier. Scott slowly pulled his way along the wall of the cockpit, cautiously reaching for every hand-hold he could find, his legs dangling behind him. He looked a bit green. “I’ll be glad when we can get…oh, I said that already. Urp.” He put his hand to his mouth. Eventually, he made it over to another console and strapped himself in. “Okay. I’m going to release the beacon.” He typed in a few commands to check on status, then pressed a button. A faint mechanical whir could be heard coming from somewhere, then it stopped with a clunk. “Okay, here goes,” Scott announced. He pushed another button. Another clunk. “It’s away.” Henry nodded. “Move us away, Ted. I don’t want to be too close when 128

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it turns on. Don’t know what it could do if it malfunctions.” Ted nodded. He reached for a series of smaller, white levers next to the master and secondary throttles. He pushed on one, and a hiss was heard. The ship slowly moved away from the satellite. Ted watched a monitor–the video feed from a camera–for several seconds. “Okay, we’re clear.” He slowly pushed up on the master throttle, and the ship began to move forward. He pulled on the stick, and the ship looped around. A few more adjustments, then, “Okay, I think we’re back on course.” Scott had been pulling himself back to the copilot chair, where the navigation station had been installed. He now strapped himself in, then looked at the monitor. “Yeah, pretty close.” He took control of the white, thruster throttles, and with a few short hisses, he announced, “Now we’re ready to go.” He punched in some information at his terminal. “Okay. Course set.” Henry nodded. “Basil, you still there?” “Yeah. If we want to go exactly ten light minutes and get back to Earth…I’d suggest going only about nine-point-nine light minutes, or we could end up smashing into the planet, by the way…but if we want to go that far, we should run at two-point-one-five times nominal power for one minute. The power required by the drives to get us to light speed I’m going to call ‘nominal power,’ just to avoid confusion.” “Uh-huh,” Henry said. Scott whispered to Ted, “Basil’s really getting into this.” “I heard that!” Henry smirked. “Okay. Let’s get going. Two-point-one-five times nominal power for one minute.” “Right.” Scott entered the command into the navigational computer. “Ready?” Henry gave the nod, and they began their thirty-second countdown. The stars glowed bright blue, there was a flash of light, and they were on their way home. Henry sighed. “Well, that was pretty uneventful.” Scott slowly swiveled around and looked at Henry, bemusedly. “You’re kidding, right? We just went faster than the speed of light for three separate instances, and you think it was uneventful?” 129

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“I mean, other than that.” The ship began to shudder again. Henry pressed the intercom button. “Basil, you’ve got to recalibrate…” “I know, I know,” came the reply. “I’m working on it.” The shimmy became worse. A buzzer went off. Scott turned and looked at the board. He started to sweat. “Henry, we have a problem. If Basil doesn’t get that problem fixed, we might fly apart.” He pointed to the board. There were several yellow lights all over the board, flashing in warning. “They’re only yellow, so we’re within safety limits.” “Damn!” came a curse over the intercom. As if on cue, the ship began to shudder violently. A siren sounded, and the board began to show red lights. A string of profanity poured out over the intercom. Scott noticeably began to panic. “We’ve got a really big problem, here, folks!” He snapped his head back to his status monitor. “We’ve got about thirty seconds before we become space debris! Basil, move your ass!” “Shut up, willya?! I’m doing the best I can.” More profanity streamed out over the speakers as Basil began to describe the MAMPS’s lack of legitimate parentage and its sexual preferences, to boot. There was a loud clang. As calmly as possible, Henry said, “Don’t hit the drive, Basil, that’s not going to work. Just drop the core.” “Are you nuts!? We’ll be stranded!” “We’ll just use the reserve fuel.” “Two degrees off course,” Scott reported. “We don’t have any reserve fuel, Henry. All of it is in the MAMPS right now! What we’ve got is what we’ve got!” Basil yelled. Shit, Henry thought. Now he was notably agitated. “Would someone shut off that damn alarm?” Scott spun around and hit a cutoff switch. The siren stopped blaring, but almost all of the lights on the board were flashing red. “Fifteen seconds! Three degrees off course. Damn it, Basil, drop the core!” “Fuck! Fuuuuck!” A loud bang rattled the ship. The ship suddenly gave one last shudder, then the stars reverted to normal. “Done. Fuck!” In front of them was the moon. Right in front of them. 130

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“Hot damn!” Ted yelled. He pushed up on the master throttle to get some speed. Nothing happened. “Basil, I lost the electromags!” “I know! Why does God have it in for me today?” The surface of the moon loomed closer. Scott looked at the sensor readings. “Uh…uh…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, we, uh, we’re going to impact in two minutes.” More sailor talk over the intercom. Finally, “Ted! Take the throttle off! I need to recalibrate the electromags.” Ted pulled back on the master and waited. “How did we get on a collision course with the moon?” Henry asked in a panic. “I don’t know!” Scott yelled back. “When we lost the stable warp field, the ship slowly veered off course!” The craters before them grew ever larger as the Explorer hurtled towards the surface of the moon. “Got it! Ted! Give it the gas!” Basil yelled. Ted pulled back on the stick and pushed the throttle forward. The ship lurched forward, and alarms on the board sounded again. “Easy, Ted!” Henry hollered. Ted eased back on the throttle. The moon sped underneath them, and the ship finally leveled out. Far in the distance, the Earth could be seen as a blue and white crescent. “Okay. I’m going to get it up as fast as I can take it, but I’ll bet it’ll take a couple days before we can get back to Earth.” Henry sighed a sigh of relief. “Well, at least we got out of that with our skins intact.” Scott nodded. “As long as none of the heat shielding came off the hull.” Everyone went quiet. Scott swiveled and looked at the board. The mock-up had mostly yellow lights, with only a few red and green interspersed. “Not good. Fortunately, nothing’s in the red right now except for the starboard wing. That could cause some trouble when we get into the Earth’s atmosphere.” He sighed. “Basil, have you ever done a spacewalk before?” “No! I’m only an aerospace engineer, not an astronaut!” Henry sighed deeply. “Well, I guess we’re going to learn.”

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--Henry’s voice crackled over the personal radio mounted in the helmet. “This airlock is secure?” Scott slowly nodded, as best as he could nod in a spacesuit. “Yeah. It’s one of the only parts of the ship that’s got green lights. The midsection was hit hard.” He pushed a button inside the airlock and the inner door hissed closed. He looked at Henry. Henry nodded at Scott, and Scott pressed the button to depressurize the chamber. Then the outer door opened. Henry and Scott stared out. The blackness of space lay before them. Henry audibly gulped. “I don’t like this.” He snapped the tether to a padeye mounted into the outer hull. Scott waved him off. “Not that one. That structural member took a lot of vibrational damage. The board says yellow, but I’m not taking any chances.” He pointed to one on the forward side of the airlock. Scott hooked himself to the padeye, then picked up a small case. Henry hooked himself to the same padeye, and the duo cautiously stepped out onto the side of the ship. Their boots stuck right to the hull. Henry nodded. “Okay, let’s take a look.” They walked around the underside of the ship and looked around carefully. “God, what a perspective. Walking on the belly of the shuttle…” Scott grunted an acknowledgment. “Hopefully, we won’t have to do this too often.” He pointed towards the tail of the shuttle. “It looks like there’s a bit of damage there. Don’t know if that’s going to cause a problem.” Basil’s voice came in over the radio. “Any damage to the heat shield will cause a world of trouble. Do you have the resin handy?” “Yeah.” He shook the case in his hand. It “rattled” without a sound. The two slowly crept their way along the belly of the ship until they got to the flaw. Once there, they saw that it looked as if it had splintered. Scott spoke. “Basil, I don’t think it just peeled away.” “What’s the damage?” “It looks splintered. It looks like it’s about four feet square.” He looked around. “It’s right along the seam of the cargo hold door.” “Great. Well, peel off what you can. I hope you’ve got enough silicon resin 132

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to put over the gaps. Once we get this thing landed, I’ll have to patch it up right. I’m trying to be very optimistic about this.” Scott’s sigh sounded like a windstorm over the radio. “All right.” He hooked the bag to his suit and looked for the applicator inside. He pulled out a large tube. “Is this it?” Henry squinted. “Yeah. It’ll only cover maybe four square feet, though.” Scott sighed again. “Well, let’s get to work.” --Henry took off his helmet. Basil was floating there, waiting anxiously. Scott came in behind Henry and closed the inner airlock door. Basil looked at Henry. “I radioed a brief message back to base. So? Did you get it fixed?” “We think so.” Henry opened the storage compartment and secured the helmet in its spot. “We used up almost all of that resin. You think it’ll work?” “It’s only good as a temporary patch, that’s it. We’ll see if it works or not. It should, though. It’s not like we have a choice.” Henry nodded, and began taking off the suit. Scott helped keep him stable. “So, ugh, what went wrong?” “I lost the antigraviton field behind us. Well, more accurately, I lost power to the antigraviton field, and it was reduced by about thirty percent. Even the slightest difference can cause turbulence, but that much imbalance can be catastrophic. We’re just lucky I didn’t lose the whole rear field, or that I had more power to the warp fields, or we’d be dead right now.” The reality of that statement slowly sank into Henry’s consciousness, chilling him completely. “Will it ever work again?” Basil nodded. “Yeah. I think I fixed the problem. There was a loose control cable to the rear field generator. Don’t know how it happened, unless I accidentally rubbed against it and pulled it loose while I was doing checks.” Basil rubbed the back of his neck, wondering at that last statement. “Well…we’re alive,” Henry said, slapping Basil on the shoulder. “And you found out what went wrong. At least it wasn’t anything wrong with the design, that’s what’s important. Otherwise, we’d really be screwed.” “Nope, the design’s great. Could probably be tweaked a bit, I guess.” As 133

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an afterthought, “I’m going to have to write an emergency and troubleshooting manual for that light drive. Hopefully, it won’t be filled with examples from experience.” Basil grimaced. “When we get back, I’m going to run an ultrasound on the structure of the ship.” Scott interrupted. “The board shows mostly yellow and some green lights. There was no plastic deformation of the ship’s structure, except maybe on the right wing. Do you think we can fly this thing again?” Basil scratched his arm. “Yeah, I think so. If there’s no red…” “Just the right wing.” Basil hummed. “Well…we’ll just have to see.” He cleared his throat. “The wings won’t matter in space. We should be able to get back to base, but I wouldn’t fly it too rough.” He glared forward towards the cockpit. Henry smiled. “I’ll tell Ted to take it easy. Meanwhile, let’s get some sleep.” --May 27. 5:01 A.M. Henry floated in through the hatch and grabbed onto the command chair. He swung himself around and strapped himself in. He looked out before him. Outside, the Earth was very close. Scott turned and acknowledged Henry’s arrival. “We’re about two minutes from re-entry.” Henry nodded. Time to see if that resin works, he thought. “Okay. Ted, angle us in. And remember: take it easy. Remember our right wing.” Ted nodded nervously. “I’ll do my best.” “Famous last words,” came a staticky voice over the intercom. “Everything secured back there, Basil?” Henry asked. “Yep.” “Are you sure?” “Uh…” Silence. “Yep.” The ship began to shudder a little. “Here we go,” Scott announced. The ship began to shimmy violently. Ted pulled up on the stick to ease the shuttle into the atmosphere. Outside, it began to glow a faint pink. 134

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“Easy…easy…” Henry coached. “I got it. Don’t worry.” However, to everyone else in the cockpit, it appeared that Ted needed to take some of his own advice. Sweat noticeably poured down the back of his neck. Scott eyed the board. The lights remained yellow and green…with the exception of the right wing tip, which was still red. “So far, so good.” “What’s our altitude?” Henry asked. Scott looked at the altimeter. “Two hundred thousand feet and falling. We should be fine now, as long as we don’t do anything stupid.” Scott then turned to the monitor, which was now beeping. “We do, however, have a new problem. I see two fighters being dispatched from Brunswick, and they appear to be on an intercept course.” Henry rolled his eyes. “Swell. Ted, take us down to three hundred feet as fast as you can, and head out to sea.” “Head out to sea? I don’t understand.” “I do,” Scott interrupted. “You’re going to throw them off the scent.” Henry nodded. “Precisely. Once we lose them, we’ll turn back toward land and head home.” “What if they get a shot off before we get out of range?” “The electromagnetic engines go faster than a missile.” Scott shook his head. “No, we cannot go that fast with our right wing all messed up.” Henry flopped back in his seat. “I’m thinking about that. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess. Right now, we need to evade them as much as possible.” Scott looked at the altimeter. “Well, they can get to us now. We’re at forty thousand and falling.” He turned to the monitor. “They’re at thirty miles and closing.” “Ted, decrease your angle of descent and head out towards sea now. And speed up just fast enough so that we don’t tear off that wing.” Ted nodded and pushed up on the main throttle. Scott grabbed a set of headphones. “I’m going to try and listen in on them.” He adjusted a dial and listened intently. He turned the dial some more. “Anything?” asked Henry. Scott shook his head. “Nope. No, wait a minute…” He pushed a button 135

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and a radio transmission played over the cabin speakers. “Unknown aircraft, identify yourself. You have entered United States airspace without authorization. Identify yourself immediately.” Scott sighed. “Think we should’ve come down someplace else other than right over Maine?” Henry nodded. “Well, live and learn.” “We hope,” Ted interjected. Basil broke in over the intercom. “I heard the transmission. Where are we, anyway?” “Twenty thousand feet over…uh…over Bangor, right now. Going southeast,” Scott replied. “Yep. Pretty stupid. Too bad we don’t have the shields operational yet.” “They’re closing,” Scott warned. “Unknown aircraft, this is your final warning. Identify yourself or we will have to fire.” Henry snapped his fingers. “I have an idea. Activate the warp drive.” “WHAT?” Basil yelled. “What are you thinking? We don’t have any fuel, anyway!” “None whatsoever?” “Well…there’s enough for a few seconds in the lines…oh, God.” “Henry, are you nuts? That’s dangerous!” Scott began to flail his arms. “No, don’t you see? If we surround ourselves in that warp field and move the field, we won’t suffer the effects of inertia.” Silence. “He has a point,” Basil said. “Still think it could be dangerous.” “Incoming missile!” Scott yelled. “Guess we’re going to find out.” “Level us out, Ted.” “You got it.” Ted pulled back on the stick. Scott reached for the button that activated the warp drive. He stopped and made the sign of the Cross, then pushed the button. “Here goes.” Everyone in the cockpit held their breath as they listened to the firing of the MAMPS; first slowly, then gradually gaining speed until the entire ship vibrated in harmony with the humming of the drive. “Don’t put too much power in it, Basil!” “There’s not enough fuel to ‘put too much power into it’ with, Henry.” 136

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“All right. Rotate the field so we start heading north.” “Do what??” “Rotate the field!” “Uh…” The sound of keyboard keys clicking came over the intercom. “Okay, I think. Only a few more seconds of fuel…you’d better do something soon.” The ship began to shake and everyone got tossed to the left. “Ungh!” Scott instinctively looked back at the ‘board.’ No change. “Lucky us. We haven’t broken up yet.” “Okay,” Basil reported. “I’ve got very little power going to the drive. Don’t know what that’s going to do.” “What’s our speed, Scott?” Scott looked over the monitor. “No reading. That missile is going to impact in twenty seconds!” “Do we even have a warp field up?” Henry inquired. “Yes,” Basil responded. “It’s up, but it’s very tiny. I’ll try to edge it up a bit more–” “Jesus!” Ted yelled. Bolts of lightning danced across the cockpit windows, and the sky changed color from blue to red.” “I’m getting a reading now!” Scott said. He reached over and disengaged the drive. The searing energy ribbons stopped and the sky returned to blue. “God! That was scary!” A staticky voice came over the cabin speakers, but nobody seemed to notice. “That’s all you’re going to get,” Basil reported. “The tanks and the lines are bone dry.” “How fast?” Henry asked. Scott looked at the display. “It showed only point-zero-zero-three-ex, but that was enough to get me worried.” Ted looked out the window. “Amazing.” Henry frowned. “What?” Ted pointed out the window. “Look where we are.” Henry unstrapped himself and walked up to the window. He looked outside. “Wow. We’re almost home. Lucky.” “Shh!” Ted hushed. “Listen!” “Repeat, Eagle 10, what did you see?” 137

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“I…I don’t know! One moment it was there, the next it was gone!” “Sounds like they’re talking about us,” Scott whispered. Henry raised his hand for silence. Ted simply kept his ear cocked as he pointed the plane towards home. The gravelly sound of the radio transmission continued over the cabin speakers as the shuttle began to skim over the treetops below. “Did you get a good look at it, Eagle 10?” “Looked like a jet plane…mostly…” “Specify ‘mostly.’” “Well…it looked exactly like those jumbo jets at the airport, but there were anomalies in its configuration.” “Wow…so that’s what it feels like to be at the other end of the UFO phenomenon!” Scott smirked. The radio transmissions continued. “Do you know which way the object went, Eagle 10?” “Negative. It was last heading out to sea before it disappeared. We no longer hold it on radar.” “Understood, Eagle 10. Do you wish to file a report?” Silence for several seconds. Then, “Negative, Brunswick. Not on a bet! Returning to base. Out.” Henry nodded solemnly. “Well…we definitely threw them off the scent.” “Yeah,” Scott agreed. “Now let’s land this puppy and never talk of this again!”

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VIII June 6, 2008. 12:39 A.M. The tech sergeant typed away on his terminal, searching various financial records. He stopped for a bit, and grabbed his cup of coffee. He then realized it was empty, so he set it down, amidst a few small piles of paper. He rubbed his eyes a bit and looked at his watch. “Jeez, it’s past midnight!” The lieutenant nodded from behind his desk. He browsed over some FBI reports. “Yeah, it’s quite late, but I feel we’re finally getting very close. Where are those reports on those people the FBI went looking for?” “Far left side of your desk sir. Next to the list of Digisoft employees who were on vacation on the nineteenth of May.” He looked where the sergeant indicated and found them. “Ah. Good. Thank you.” “No problem sir.” The sergeant got up. “I need more coffee.” The lieutenant nodded, and pushed his cup a bit. “Please get me some, too.” The sergeant grabbed the cups and went out into the lobby. The scraping sound of metal could be heard, as the sergeant grabbed the coffee pot off of the burner. The lieutenant looked back down to his work. He flipped a few pages, then sighed. The sergeant came back in with the coffee. “God, I wish we could find out who was responsible for this blast. Those people that the FBI

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questioned weren’t very helpful. Trying to find Bin Laden must’ve been easier.” “Well, I’ve been noticing a pattern. There are about six people that went on vacation from Digisoft on or about the nineteenth of last month. One of them was the company’s CEO…but he wasn’t really on vacation. His secretary told me that he was on a business trip out of the country. But I noticed that the other five people all quit their jobs the day after the nineteenth.” “Why?” “That’s what I wanted to know. They were all top performers in their company, so I figured they had a better job offer elsewhere. But they never took on a new job. Anywhere.” “That’s pretty odd.” “Yes, sir. I had the FBI try to track them down, but they went missing.” “Missing?” The lieutenant raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, sir. Houses completely abandoned. So they went to friends and questioned them to possible whereabouts.” The sergeant scrolled through some data on a report on the computer. “All in all, there’s been about eighty people who all quit their jobs on the twentieth or twenty-first.” “I don’t get it. What led you to that?” “The FBI went to question the friends of the six missing people, and found even more people that had just up and vanished. About forty in the Seattle area, and another forty or so in New England.” “Weird.” “Weirder than that is that the vast majority had technical backgrounds. There were four nuclear and quantum physicists in the mix, one of whom is a close friend of Digisoft’s CEO.” “Who’s their CEO?” The sergeant looked up the name. “Ted Fleming. His friend is a Dr. Judith Hauschild. But all of these people are accounted for during the day of the blast, except for Ted, who was out of the country.” The lieutenant scratched his chin, weighting multiple possibilities. “Eighty people…that’s a good number of people. And most of them with advanced technical backgrounds. Does look suspicious, especially since they up and disappeared so soon after the blast. Did you check all their contacts?” 140

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“Almost all of them. I’m working on a few others now. Hold on, wait a minute.” The tech typed furiously at the terminal. “What?” “Well, I was doing a search and cross-referencing between nuclear physicists and these people in New England. I just found an FBI report dated 29 September, 2005. You may want to take a look at it, sir.” The sergeant moved out of the way so the lieutenant could read the computer screen. The lieutenant squinted and scanned the screen, first slowly, them more and more furiously. He grabbed a second report, that of the examination of the blast site, and reviewed it quickly. His face went pale. “Oh…my…God.” --June 6, 2008. 12:53 A.M. They must go… The general found himself surrounded by a golden mist. He seemed to float in it, as his feet didn’t seem to touch solid ground. He was alone in this strange environment. They must go… “Who’s there?” he called out, but his voice sounded muffled, as if he had stuck his fingers in his ears. He turned around. Standing several feet away, he saw a man, facing away from him. It’s him! the general thought. This was the man he was looking for! He started to move towards his intended target, but the other man seemed to drift further away. “Come back here!” he tried to yell, but it still came out wrong. The other man turned a little bit, and the general thought that he must’ve heard him…but then he realized the other man was looking at something else. Another man–no, a luminous being–was there, holding something in his outstretched hands. It looked like a box. He needed that box. He had to have what was inside that box! Ring! The general woke with a start, and banged his hand against the phone, sending it to the floor. He cursed, then felt around for a light. He turned it on.

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A faint electronic voice could be heard coming from the receiver on the floor. “What is it, George?” the woman lying next to him asked. “Damned if I know. It better be good, whatever it is.” He bent over, grunted, and picked up the receiver. “Who is it, and it better be damn good!” “It’s Lieutenant Shoeffer, sir.” “Okay, what is it.” He grabbed his glasses off the night stand and put them on. He sat up in bed to listen. “I think I have some information you may want to look at.” “Damn it, Lieutenant, it’s almost 1 A.M.!” “I understand, sir, but this is important. I think I may have found who we’re looking for.” The general sat upright in bed. “What?” “I found the na–” The general hung up the phone with a bang. The woman propped herself up in bed. “What is it now, honey?” “I think I’ve just got the biggest break of a lifetime!” --The Pentagon. 1:22 A.M. “General,” the lieutenant beckoned. The general closed the office door behind him and tossed his hat on a nearby chair. “What is it, Shoeffer?” “Take a look at this report the analysts did of the blast site.” The general peered at the papers on the lieutenant’s desk. “Yeah? Is this what you wanted me to see? What of it?” “Well, sir, there’s evidence of metamorphosed rock and the like in the area.” “Of course. There was an explosion. Lots of rocks and bushes will be blown into bits.” “No, sir, it’s not like that. The analysis team discovered some unusual debris at ground zero.” “And?” “Well…” The lieutenant flipped to a different page in the report. “See 142

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here. They found some camp sites that were blown about by the shockwave. However, the debris didn’t just fly around. Some aluminum cans were found completely flattened, as if something had rolled over them.” “Kids having fun with their truck or something. Flattening things.” “Oh, really? Can a half-ton pickup compress rock?” The general raised both eyebrows in alarm. “What?” “Yes, sir. The analysis team found sedimentary rock compressed, like it underwent geological changes, and made into a metamorphic rock. That can only be created under extreme heat…” “…And extreme pressure. As if they had been compressed.” The lieutenant nodded. “So, what are you trying to tell me?” “Okay, here’s the hook.” The lieutenant grabbed another document and showed it to the general. “I’m not familiar with this report.” The lieutenant nodded. “Not too many are. There was some investigation by the FBI almost three years ago into what they suspected was a terrorist group requesting help from physicists to build a nuclear bomb. It was a big deal at the time, until they found that the only requests were for help with theoretical physics, such as quantum mechanics and…gravitons.” “Gravitons?” “The working theory is that they are particles that give mass the ability to attract other mass. If you can harness them, you can use them to create artificial gravity.” “Gravity.” The light of realization dawned on the general’s face. “Shit. You don’t suppose that those flattened cans and those rocks were the result of gravitons?” “Very likely, sir,” the lieutenant confirmed. The general took a nearby seat, rested his forehead in the palm of his hand, and thought. “We may not be dealing with terrorists, after all.” He looked up. “At the beginning of this investigation, I had been thinking about the massive amount of energy that was released. You say the blast has similar characteristics to what was found in Tonguska, correct?” The lieutenant nodded.

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“And one theory is that a miniature black hole collided with the Earth, causing the cataclysm?” The lieutenant nodded again. “And black holes have massive waves of gravity emanating from them! My God! Did they create a black hole?” “That’s the theory right now, sir. At the very least, a matter annihilation had occurred, releasing gravitons and other particles, thus explaining the odd effects on the surroundings.” The general leaned back in the chair. “What would anyone want with something like that?” “I don’t know, really, sir. There are three theories. The first is that someone was trying to recreate the Tonguska blast, either for scientific purposes or to use that destructive power for ulterior reasons. The second is that someone was researching a new form of energy. And the third–and most esoteric–deals with a man named Alcubierre.” “He’s a theoretical physicist, right?” “Right, sir. Similar to the physicists interrogated in the 2005 FBI report.” The general asked quietly, “What did Alcubierre do?” “Invented, well, proposed a theory for an interstellar drive.” The general’s mouth hung open. “So he was right,” he whispered to himself. He blinked and wiped his forehead, to try to distract the lieutenant from his slip. “Sir? Who was r–” “Who was trying to contact those physicists in 2005, Lieutenant?” “Oh.” The lieutenant flipped through the FBI report. “Someone named Henry Gusman.” The general leaped up. “You’re right! We’ve got our man! Lieutenant, assemble a strike team immediately. We will make our move the morning of 7 June.” “Yes, sir!” --The Pentagon. 1:37 A.M. “That’s right, Director. Hendrick Gusman.” The general listened. He 144

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leaned back in his tall chair and put his feet on the desk. “Yes, in Maine. He lives near a town called Orton. We haven’t yet pinned down where all his possible hideouts are, though.” He listened some more. “You want to do what tonight?” Silence. “I see. We do need to move, but if we act too hastily, we may scare him off. Maine isn’t that big of a state, but it is easy to lose yourself there…especially in the northern part of the state. And Canada is right nearby. I’d prefer to get more intel first, before we advance.” Lieutenant Shoeffer paced back and forth in front of the general’s desk. The general put his hand over the receiver. “Damn it, Lieutenant, sit down! You’re making me nervous!” The lieutenant immediately dropped into the nearest chair, and sat straight upright, like a board. “Better.” He removed his hand from the mouthpiece. “Yes, Director, I was just talking to my lieutenant.” He listened and nodded. “Affirmative; 7 June 2008 for the operation it is. We’ll set up camp this evening.” He listened briefly. “Understood. I’m on my way to Bangor now. We’ll meet at the designated location at 0700 hours.” --Room 211, Budget Inn, Bangor, ME. 7:04 A.M. The general paced around the dimly lit room, waiting for his contact to arrive. He was dressed in civilian clothes, for a change, so he would not attract any unwanted attention. He looked at his watch again for the fifth time in about as many minutes. 7:05. He swore a blue streak and paced some more. He jumped when he heard a gentle rapping on the door. He walked over and opened it. It was the lieutenant. “Oh. It’s you.” He gruffly stepped aside to let the young officer in, then closed the door behind him. “Where’s that damn agent at, anyway? He said he’d be here at 0700, sharp!” “I don’t know, sir.” The general grunted. “So, you said you had something for me?” “I sent out some more feelers to get as much information as possible before we make our assault in less than twenty-four hours. I got something from the Naval Air Station in Brunswick that might interest you.” He held up 145

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a small video tape player and a video cassette tape. “Go ahead, plug it in!” “Yes, sir.” The man proceeded to connect the tape player to the television and put the tape in. He pressed the play button, and the two officers stepped back to watch. The screen showed a grainy video recording. Far in the distance was what looked like a jumbo jet. “What are we looking at?” the general asked. “This is from two fighters scrambled to intercept an unknown intruder,” the lieutenant replied. “Listen, sir.” “Unknown aircraft, this is your final warning. Identify yourself or we will have to fire.” The video rolled for several seconds. The pilot acknowledged he had fired a missile. Then, without notice, the jet disappeared from view. “WHAT THE FUCK!” “Watch your language, Eagle 10. What’s the problem?” “The intruder…it’s gone!” “It can’t just be ‘gone,’ Eagle 10. Recheck your instruments.” “It’s gone, Brunswick. I’m not kidding!” “What was it, Eagle 10, what did you see?” The audio became filled with static, and the pilot’s voice was drowned out. “Repeat, Eagle 10, what did you see?” “I…I don’t know! One moment it was there, the next it was gone!” “Did you get a good look at it, Eagle 10?” “Looked like a jet plane…mostly…” “Specify ‘mostly.’” “Well…it looked exactly like those jumbo jets at the airport, but there were anomalies in its configuration.” “Do you know which way the object went, Eagle 10?” “Negative. It was last heading out to sea before it disappeared. We no longer hold it on radar.” “Understood, Eagle 10. Do you wish to file a report?” Silence for several seconds. Then, “Negative, Brunswick. Not on a bet! Returning to base. Out.” 146

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The lieutenant paused the video. He looked at the general, who now had a very pensive look on his face. The general finally spoke, quietly. “They’ve got a working prototype of a spaceship.” “It seems so, sir.” “I want a tank or two at our little soiree tomorrow morning, understood? Make sure they understand only to disable the spaceship…if possible. I want them alive for questioning. I’ll have to inform my superiors of this–see what they think. I have a good idea what they’ll want though, don’t you?” “Yes, sir! How about getting an air wing up?” he quickly suggested. The general indicated negative. “Once they’re airborne, we’ve lost them. You saw the video.” The lieutenant nodded. “Understood, sir.” There was a knock on the door, and the lieutenant whispered, “Should we let our contact with the FBI know?” “No. Absolutely not. He will continue to think it is a terrorist operation. As far as anyone other than you and I are concerned, this operation is to stop terrorists. To tell them otherwise risks morale and motivation. The troops will be much more gung-ho to go after terrorists than colonists, and the last thing we need is something like that getting to the press. Understood?” The general went to the door and opened it, letting the FBI agent in. The lieutenant nodded as he switched off the video player. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” The general turned to the agent. “Agent Schlesinger?” “Yes.” “I’m Major General McGowan…and this is my protégé, Lieutenant Shoeffer. Shall we get started?” “Affirmative,” the agent replied. He stepped inside, and the general closed the door. “Do you know where we’re going to find our terrorists?” The agent raised an eyebrow. The general had a suspicion the FBI agent already knew, but was probing to see if he and the lieutenant knew also. They only knew that Henry Gusman was in or near Orton, but that was it. “No, Schlesinger, we don’t know exactly. I’m suspecting you do?” “We have a very good idea. We’ve already had agents at Mr. Gusman’s residence. It’s currently unoccupied, but we’re staking it out. We’re also 147

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watching his place of business. There’s only one other place that he may be.” He stopped. The general folded his arms, and was starting to get impatient with the agent’s way of telling his story. “And that is…” “We’ve talked with some locals. They’ve seen him and several others frequent an unused airfield fifteen miles south-southwest of Orton. We’ll be dispatching an agent there tonight to survey the area and confirm the location.”

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IX The hangar. 9:15 A.M. Henry activated the switch by the door to the cockpit. It slid open, and he was immediately assaulted. “Daddy!” The boy tackled Henry and wrapped his arms around his father’s legs. “Ungh,” Henry grunted, trying to keep his balance. He looked inside. Sarah was sitting next to Scott by a new console. She cocked her head and smirked at Henry. “Glad you could make it, slowpoke.” “I got here as fast as I could. Had some things to discuss with Ted.” “Uh huh.” She turned back to her work. “Is this what I think it is?” Henry walked into the cockpit, his son in tow, still trying to cling to a leg. “Yeah,” Scott answered. “This is the GEOCOM. It has the ability to determine the atmosphere of a planet by the refraction of light through its atmosphere. It also can scan the area and determine what planets or other objects are in space. Watch this.” Scott flipped a switch on the GEOCOM, and a life-like display of the planet Earth appeared in the center of the room. Henry squatted down in a hurry, making Sarah laugh. Scott continued, smirking. “This is the threedimensional display. I got tired of squinting all the time at that damn monitor. Pretty neat, huh?”

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Henry stood back up. “Yeah. Jeez, I thought something was going to hit me.” “Nope, it’s a hologram. Rather cutting-edge technology.” Scott turned off the display. “What’s been your role in this?” Henry said to Sarah. “Well, since one of our criteria is to inhabit an uninhabited planet, I’ve been supplying archaeological data to the GEOCOM systems. Give it something to compare to so it can make a best guess. I’ve also been collaborating with your friend Gary in New Mexico via the internet. He’s sent me some data for the geologic processes so the GEOCOM can read land forms and the like.” “She’s been a big help,” Scott said. “Even though we’ve been on the ground, we’ve been able to use her archaeological templates to accurately survey Orton.” “From here?” Henry said with disbelief. “Yep. Doesn’t give an exact population, but it does set limits to where the town line might be, approximate population density, etceteras. It’s been accurate to within five percent.” Henry picked up his son and held him. “What else have you been up to?” “Well,” Scott said, “while Sarah’s been adding info to the GEOCOM, I’ve been finishing up a couple other things in here. I’ve still got some work to do on the communications console, next to the GEOCOM unit.” He turned to the left wall. “Over here is the engineering monitoring stations. Then the pilot and copilot seats each have a weapons console on the bulkhead. We have two laser cannons and, of course, our shields. Not much, but maybe enough. These lasers can cut through a three-foot block of steel in a matter of seconds, so I think it’s pretty potent. The cannons are mounted below the nose here on swivel mounts, so we don’t have to point the ship to target something. We’ll need to practice when we’re in space.” “Pretty good. Anything else?” “That’s pretty much it. I’ve run multiple simulations on all the equipment, so we should be in good shape for tomorrow’s liftoff.” Basil then came inside. “I’ve finished calling all of the people.” “Thanks. Did Ted find any news from the Pentagon?” “Not yet. Once they find where we are, it’s just a matter of time before 150

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they come down on us like flies on manure.” Basil sighed nervously. He fidgeted for a bit, then, “I’m going to run some quick simulations.” Henry watched Basil go over to the engineering console to begin typing. “Uh…Scott? We wanted them to arrive early morning tomorrow, right?” Basil interrupted. “Yes, but some are not too sure if they can make it by then. Loose ends, you know…” “Well, either you or Scott should call them again and tell them the situation. If they still are not too sure, we’ll have to leave them behind.” “Okay. I have to fetch some equipment out of the office anyway.” Scott left. “You want to test these shields now?” Basil asked. “They’re ready?” “Yep. Scott showed me where the switch was, on the weapons console.” “Great.” He turned to Sarah. “I’m going to have to shoot at the ship. Might be a good idea to get Junior away from here, just in case.” Sarah nodded. “How long will it take?” “Only a few minutes. Just keep him outside for a while, okay?” “Sure thing.” Sarah got up from the GEOCOM and took the boy from Henry. “You watch out, Henry.” “You know me.” Henry smirked. Sarah briefly thought about the ‘experiment.’ “Yeah. I do. You watch out, Henry,” she repeated, her voice a little lower in pitch. “Har, har.” He gave her a swift pat on the rump as she left. “Okay, I’ve got a walkie-talkie in the office we can use.” “No, I have them here,” Basil corrected. He reached into his tool pouch and produced them. He handed one to Henry. “Channel 4.” “Right.” He switched it on and stepped out of the cockpit, and then out of the ship. “Scott,” he hollered, “where’s the pistol?” “In the safe where you left it!” Henry walked into the office. Scott was hunched over the computer, typing furiously. Henry briefly glanced at the screen. It was all gibberish to him. Ted was on the phone, leaning back in the chair. He briefly acknowledged Henry with a nod and a wave. Henry turned the combination on the safe. “Okay,” Ted said. He listened a bit. “What about the facility in Shanghai? 151

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How are the programmers doing there?” Henry turned the latch on the safe and opened it. “That’s good. Hold on. I’ve got another call. I’ll get back to you.” Henry grabbed the pistol, checked the chamber for ammunition, and took it out into the hangar. He switched on the walkie-talkie and talked into it. “Okay, turn it on,” he commanded. “On,” came Basil’s reply. Henry chambered the pistol and aimed it at the center of the ship. He fired. The bullet ricocheted off of an invisible barrier only one foot from the hull of the ship. “Not a dent in power, Henry.” This time, he charged up a spare laser, left on a workbench. He aimed and fired. The beam struck the shield and dissipated. “Still fine. Any cuts outside that you can see?” “No, Basil. Not a one. The shields evidently work.” “Great!” Ted ran in from the office, looking horrified. “They have set their date of operation: tomorrow!” “Oh no!” He ran into the office. “Scott, did you hear?” “Yes, I did,” he replied while looking at the computer screen. “I’ve got more bad news. I just checked my email here. Several key people I’ve contacted so far are fairly sure they cannot make it tomorrow. I got a hold of some family of some of the people I didn’t get a response from. A few people have been detained by federal agents for questioning, perhaps even to be charged with conspiracy–all this within the past few hours. Very disturbing. I’ve been spending my time trying to contact alternates while working on the programming for the communication console. So far, nothing’s come of my contacts yet, and it’ll be hard to get alternates at this short notice.” “How many do we have committed?” “Ninety-three. We’re missing a metallurgist, a chemical engineer, and a couple others. They were the ones apprehended. The alternates I’m trying to contact should fill those roles. Fortunately, the ninety-three we do have are already either en route, or at safe locations. Apparently, federal agents have been to all of the homes of those we’ve successfully contacted and moved 152

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to new locations. I’m telling you, the shitstorm’s in full swing.” Henry nodded. His stomach churned. “I need to get some air. Be right back.” Scott nodded in response. “We’ll be fine. Somehow.” Henry opened the door and stepped outside. Sarah was there, squatting next to Junior. He was pushing a toy truck in the dirt. Sarah looked up and saw Henry’s pale expression. “What’s wrong?” Henry quickly told her the situation. “Holy sh…” She quickly censored herself and looked at their son. He was now staring up at Henry. Henry sat down in the dirt. “I swear. There’s always a new obstacle.” He stared down at some pebbles in the dirt. Sarah slid over and put an arm around Henry’s shoulder. “Nothing that’s worth while comes easy. You know that.” “I know. It’s just that…” “You’ve got to get over it, Henry,” she said frankly. “You’ve come this far. You’ve overcome many obstacles. And there will be more. Always.” She smiled at him when he looked at her. “Besides, I will always be with you. I’ll be there to help you through it.” I will always be with you echoed in his head. He briefly caught a glimpse of the gold wedding band on Sarah’s hand. The late spring breeze picked up a bit, carrying warmth with it, and briefly, in his inner vision, he saw the moon. “You okay?” Sarah said, frowning. “Huh?” Henry snapped out of his daze. “Yeah. You’re right. We’ll get through this. We’ve just gotta have faith.” He reached over and tussled his son’s hair. --Near the hangar. 11:39 P.M. The warm night breeze blew softly through the trees, causing a mild rustling sound that came and went in gentle waves. Occasionally, a frog chirped, calling for its mate on this June night. The moon cast its silvery light, filtered through the leaves, forming pale patterns on the gravel road below. 153

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Henry strolled slowly up the gravel road, occasionally kicking a stone into the woods. The car was left at the base of the road, to allow for as much room as possible for all the other people that would be showing up. He breathed deep, taking in the sweet evening nectar that was around him. “Absolutely lovely night for a walk, eh?” Basil nodded slightly, and twiddled with a stick he found earlier on. “Hard to imagine that tomorrow’s our last day here. Can’t help but feel a little apprehensive. Especially since we don’t know exactly when the task force will be crawling up our butts.” “Yeah.” Henry sighed. “Well, that’s why we’re leaving as soon as humanly possible. Right before sunrise on the seventh.” “When’s the second shuttle supposed to get here, exactly?” “In less than an hour, give or take. The people will be filing this way soon enough after. I told everyone they needed to be here by 1:30 in the morning.” “I’m sure they were pleased to hear that.” “Yeah, well, I told them once we’re in space, they’ll get all the sleep they can stomach.” Henry grinned gleefully. Basil snorted in agreement. He brought up a new subject. “How’s Sarah and Henry Junior handling all this?” “Better than I am,” Henry replied. “Junior doesn’t fully understand all that’s going on, but he knows what we’re doing for the most part. He does understand how important it is. And Sarah has been a constant source of support.” “That’s good,” Basil said. “Wendy’s been the same for me. How about your father? Does he know what’s going on?” Henry stopped. “Yeah, he knows. I’ve been keeping him up to date. He’s staying with friends, just in case we get unwanted visitors at the house.” “How is he handling it?” Henry sighed. “Well enough. He’s sad that I’m leaving, and worried, but proud, too.” The two started walking up the road again. “Didn’t he want to come, too?” Basil asked. “No. He feels he’s too old for an adventure of this magnitude.” They continued up the dirt road in silence, listening to the soothing sound of the wind. Eventually, they made it to the top of the hill and turned the 154

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corner–the hangar laid before them. Henry surveyed the large building from front to rear, admiring it, when his eyes stopped midway. His mouth hung open in surprise. Basil noticed his change in demeanor and became edgy. “What is it?” He frantically searched the side of the building with his eyes. “What do you…” Then he saw it. The door into the hangar office was ajar. Henry closed his mouth, and tried to gather some words to say. “You, uh, did lock up earlier tonight, right?” Basil nodded silently. Henry signaled Basil to remain quiet, and scurried up to the open door. He stood next to the opening, his back towards the wall, watching the doorway. Basil stationed himself on the other side of the door. Henry motioned Basil to remain still. He cautiously peered inside the door into the building. Darkness. Henry looked at Basil and shrugged. He looked back inside. Darkness. “Anything?” Basil whispered. Henry shook his head no. He slowly opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through and quietly stepped into the office. Basil slipped in behind and pushed the door back to where it had been. The two allowed their eyes to adjust to the darkness, then peered through the door window into the hangar. Nothing. Basil looked away and checked his watch. “Well, this is interesting,” he whispered. “Wonder how long ago they were–” Henry gasped and put his hand on Basil’s shoulder. Basil looked back out into the hangar. Through the cockpit window, they could see the light of a flashlight moving about the darkened compartment. Basil and Henry looked at each other in fear. “What are we going to do?” Basil asked. “We have to capture him and hold him until we leave tomorrow morning.” Basil’s mouth hung open. “Can we do that?” 155

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“I guess we’re going to find out.” Henry opened the door to the hangar cautiously. It squeaked. Henry held his breath, his heart beating like a jackhammer, and stood dead still. The light continued to move about inside the cockpit of the shuttle. Henry opened the door even slower, trying to keep the sticky hinge as quiet as possible. Once open far enough to get through, Henry slipped into the hangar. He looked both ways to ensure there wasn’t someone else in the hangar prowling around, then trotted over to the steps going up to the open airlock. He hid just outside and peered in. A silhouette carrying a flashlight silently went past the airlock and went towards the rear of the shuttle. Basil scooted up behind Henry and stood still. Henry listened–he could hear the intruder climbing down the ladder into the engineering compartment. He turned to Basil. “He’s going into engineering,” he whispered. Basil nodded. “We can’t trap him in there. There’s a secondary exit to the outside there.” “I know. Basil, you go in and secure the normal exit from engineering. I’ll stand guard outside the escape hatch and wait. I need something first….” Henry quickly darted back into the office to get something. “But…but…” Basil sighed. He quietly went up the ladder into the airlock. He stopped just outside of the main passageway and peered aft. Nothing. Basil crept down the passageway until he reached the trunk going to the lower level. He grabbed hold of the railings and quietly went down the ladder. He stopped two steps short of the bottom to listen. He could hear the intruder walking around on the decking in the engineering spaces. Basil continued down, but took one extra step, thinking the ladder was longer than it actually was. He slammed his foot into the deck and cursed quietly. He froze, fearing that he gave himself away. He listened. Silence. Shit. Basil quietly but expeditiously went to the control panel for the hatch and opened it. He typed in the override code. Bars inside the bulkhead slid with a steady grind, indicating the door was being secured. In a few seconds, 156

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they slammed home. The LCD panel indicated Decompression contained. Basil listened at the door. He heard someone typing at the control panel on the other side, at first quietly, but then more and more furiously. “Shit” someone said, then banged on the door loudly. Basil leaped back, feeling that his heart was going to leap out of his throat. He ran back to the ladder, scrambled up it, and darted out of the shuttle. He ran over to the light switch and turned the lights on in the hangar. “Basil, damn it, give me some warning!” Henry yelled. “I’ve got him! He’s in engineering!” “Okay. Go call the others and let them know we’ve got an intruder. I’ll keep watch.” Henry hunkered down behind the compressor and waited. Nothing. Henry waited five minutes. “Well, screw this,” he said. He grabbed the hose for the compressor and connected it to a port on the belly of the shuttle. He bounded back over to the compressor, turned it on, and set it in reverse. The compressor started to rumble, then it grew louder as there was less and less air to evacuate. Basil came out of the office. “I called Scott and…what are you doing?” “Depressurizing the shuttle.” Basil gaped. “Are you crazy? You’ll kill him!” “I only have it set to shut off at 0.6 atmospheres. I only want to smoke him out, uh, so to speak.” Basil shrugged. “So what do you want me to do.” Henry said, “Nothing right now. Just watch to see if he is able to open the engineering hatch and exit through the normal airlock. I’ll take care of him here.” “How?” Henry revealed the gun he had in his hand. Basil stammered. “Uh…uh…” “Relax. I’ll only wound him if I have to. I don’t want to be leaving any bodies behind, if I can help it.” Basil nodded nervously and stationed himself just inside the office, watching out the doorway for any trouble. The compressor stopped, indicating almost half of the air had been removed from the engineering compartment. 157

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“Now we wait,” Henry said. Henry crouched down behind the compressor, watching and waiting. A light started blinking next to the escape hatch. “Here he comes,” Henry alerted. The hatch slid open with a violent hiss. Air immediately rushed into the compartment, sucking in some dust and debris from the hangar floor. Then there was silence for a few seconds. Pop! The intruder threw a can out of the hatch, and it started giving off smoke. “Smoke grenade!” Henry announced. He ran towards the large hangar doors and positioned himself behind some parts. The smoke started filling up the hangar. By now, it had almost completely surrounded the shuttle and gone all the way to the office. Henry saw a silhouette jump out of the shuttle hatch. Bang! Bang! The intruder started firing towards Henry. Henry ducked further beneath the leftover plating and prepared to fire, but remembered that he might hit the shuttle instead. The intruder let off a couple more rounds before scurrying to the office door, then ran out of the hangar. “Whoah!” Thump. Henry cocked his ear and listened. Nothing. “Basil?” “Yeah?” “What happened?” “I got him. Let’s just say, he had a nice trip.” Henry got up and opened the hangar doors to let the smoke out before he walked to the office to investigate. He entered the office and looked at the body sprawled upon the floor. “Wow. You did get him.” Basil swallowed hard. “I put my leg out and he went flying. Smacked his head on the desk.” Henry examined the person splayed out on the floor. Basil shifted on his feet, trying to contain his discomfort. “Is he…is he…” Henry shook his head. “He’s out cold, but not dead.” He sat on the floor next to the intruder. Basil asked, “So, now what?” “We strip him.” 158

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Basil frowned. “I want to make sure he doesn’t have anything of ours that’s important to us. And, it’ll make it just that more difficult for him to escape.” “We’re going to hold him prisoner?” Henry nodded. “I’m sure that when the special task force raids the place, they’ll find him and release him. For now, I don’t want another fly in the ointment. He was here most likely to see how armed we are and how many of us there are, but he may have other motives besides that.” “Like stealing technology.” “Exactly.” Henry and Basil sat in silence on the floor, looking at the unconscious intruder. Then they both shifted their attentions to something outside, when they heard something coming up the gravel road. Henry got up and looked outside. A car was moving toward the building. It stopped, and Scott stepped out, with Ted right behind. “It’s Scott and Ted,” Henry said, turning back to Basil. Basil nodded. Scott and Ted opened the door and rushed in. They stopped dead when they saw the person laid out on the floor. “Christ, did you kill him?” Scott inquired. “No, he’s just unconscious.” Basil nodded. “Yeah, now we’re going to strip him.” Ted shook his head. “Sick.” The four stared at each other for a bit, as if reluctant to speak about something. Finally, Basil motioned to the unconscious intruder on the floor. “So…who’s gonna do it?” The other three cleared their throats and tugged at their collars a bit. Basil rolled his eyes. “Fine! I’ll do it.” He knelt on the floor and began the dirty work. He first pulled out a wallet and looked through it. With a knowing smirk, he flashed the FBI badge at his companions. “Well, now not only are we going to be charged for terrorism, we’ll be charged for assaulting a law enforcement agent,” Ted torted. Henry shrugged. “Well, we couldn’t let him get away with the knowledge of what we’re doing here.” 159

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Basil continued to search the man and remove articles of clothing. Everyone had an ashen expression on their face, because now they knew the government knew where they were. They may not have known what they were doing, exactly, but that didn’t matter. Basil somberly continued his process until he pulled something about the size of a small book out of the man’s inner jacket pocket. He turned it over in his hands. “Looks like one of those portable computers-slash-notebooks…or whatever.” Henry commented. “I know what you mean,” Ted replied, and suddenly a look of dread crossed his face. “It’s a computer, all right. Wireless hand-held PC, to be precise.” He sighed, his breath quavering slightly. “I’ve produced software for things like this before. If what I’m thinking is right, you may want to turn that thing on, Basil, and see what he’s sent so far.” Basil finally began to understand what Ted was implying and gulped loudly. He turned it on and accessed the data. Henry looked at Ted with wide eyes. “You don’t think…” “Possible. If he did…” Basil began to shiver and dropped the computer pad on the floor. The clunk it made echoed throughout the hangar, sending its knell of pending doom. Henry picked up the hand-held computer and looked at the text on the screen. The priority message sent chills down Henry’s spine >Z 070438ZJUN08 - FLASH - FM A01335 TO FEDBURINV WASH DC - ARROW ALERT - MSG IS AS FOLLOWS: 1. LOCATION OF SUSPECTS CONFIRMED 15 MILES SSW OF ORTON ME. SUGGEST IMMED DEPLOYMENT OF OPERATIVES TO SECURE THE AREA. “They know where we are,” Henry announced. “And they’re coming” Ted and Scott sighed in vexation. Scott asked, “How long do you think it would take for them to mobilize…or whatever it is they do?” “They’ll be in the area in a day, tops,” Ted replied. “Depending on how the leader of the operation works, they could strike immediately or wait for the day after. That would mean they’ll either strike tomorrow afternoon or morning. If the leader’s in a hurry…morning. If he’s cautious…then it’s the afternoon. Maybe the next day.” 160

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“Hopefully, the afternoon or next day,” Basil finally said, now that he had regained some of his composure. Henry raised his hand. Everyone stood stock still, nervous from the night’s events thus far. He whispered, “Do you hear something?” Basil cocked an ear. “Yeah,” he whispered back. “Sounds like…hey!” He raised his voice. “It’s them!” --June 7. 1:49 A.M. Henry walked into the hangar, surveying the bustling activity around him. The second ship had arrived from Seattle not even two hours ago, and a line of people had been busy packing the cargo hold of the Pioneer, parked outside, ever since its arrival. The Explorer was almost ready to go, except for some last minute checks and ensuring everything was bolted down. Any loose equipment could cause severe damage and could ruin the mission, although Harry had always thought ‘mission’ wasn’t a good enough word to describe the undertaking at hand. The mission–or, more accurately, the quest–kept Henry’s mind spinning. Standing in the hangar, watching the people load the shuttles for their immediate departure, gave Henry a strange feeling–the feeling of standing high on a precipice and looking down. On one hand, to Henry the entire situation was frightening, but exhilarating, just knowing that he had come so close thus far to his lifelong dream. And, in only a few hours, if all went well, that dream would be realized. A loud bang shook Henry loose from his thoughts. He turned to look at the crew loading the Explorer to see one of the crates carrying dehydrated food had been dropped and now was cracked open. Scott was there, at the head of the crew, and he started running his hand through his platinum hair, the signs of stress and fatigue building on his face. Scott closed his eyes and took a big breath. “Okay, okay, that’s…okay…we’ll just have to repack it later. Lex, take over. I’ve gotta go inside to straighten out the cargo hold.” Ted yelled after him. “I’m coming with you.” The two men crawled into a second airlock near the rear of the shuttle and closed it behind them. 161

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Henry decided he had better help out with loading the shuttles, or they would never get off the ground in time. Lex, a long time friend and employee of Ted’s, who took over Scott’s place, had a clipboard in his hand, and clipped to it was a one-inch stack of papers. Lex looked a bit like Scott–he had blond hair and was tall and wiry, but taller than Scott and a little more laid back. He had a boyish face. He watched as the boxes and crates went into the belly of the shuttle and marked off the immense checklist. He looked over to the Pioneer, where Harry had control of the clipboard there. Lex seemed remarkably calm–almost self-assured. Henry wished he felt that calm. Oh well, he thought, and went over to the end of the brigade loading the Explorer, which was now, of course, short one man. He got to the supplies there when someone called his name. “Yo! Henry?” Henry furrowed his brow. He had never heard that voice before, although it did sound slightly familiar. He turned in the direction of the voice. “Yes?” The man was almost the spitting image of Ted, right down to the jet black hair and immense height. He extended a bony hand. “I’m Travis.” Seeing the look of confusion on Henry’s face, he explained. “Ted’s brother? Didn’t he tell you?” Henry looked dazedly for a moment, then, “Oh, yeah! I do kind of remember him mentioning something about you…” Henry grinned in amusement. “You were working on the Pioneer in Seattle, right?” Travis nodded his head. Looking up at him made Henry a bit dizzy. “Yeah. I worked on the top secret stuff that only a few others were working on. I must admit, the plan seems crazy, but Ted told me that the Explorer works fine, so the Pioneer should be okay, too.” “Well, that’s what we’re hoping. You okay about commanding the Explorer?” “Commanding? Hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but I guess so. Ted’s running the Pioneer, right?” Henry nodded. “Who’s going to be his engineer?” “Mike, over there. The guy who looks like a football player with the fire red hair. He’s next to…Harry, right?” Henry nodded. 162

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“No offense, but you think someone that old can handle the rigors of space travel? Everyone else here is no older than forty.” “I have faith in him. I can’t explain it,” Henry said with some concern. He actually had a very good idea why he wanted Harry on board–as a replacement for Elizabeth. Why he would have wanted someone with strong psychic ability–that he was not as sure about. He continued. “But I can’t help but feel there’s something important about him. Like he’ll be important to the trip. Could be his body language, I guess. It makes me feel like he’d be a good coach when the times get rough.” “So he’s going to be the Explorer’s ship counselor?” Travis grinned. Henry smirked. “Donno. Guess you could put it that way.” Travis nodded. The two stood there, their arms crossed, observing the activity near the Pioneer. The wind picked up a bit, and blew some debris into the hangar. The light of the moon shone down on the Pioneer, forming a shadow of the ship upon the concrete floor. Combined with some of the dust blowing around, it almost made it look like there was smoke underneath the shuttle. Henry attempted to stifle a yawn. “Is he Norwegian?” Henry finally asked. “Huh?” “Norwegian. The red hair and large build. He reminds me of a Viking or something.” “Oh, Mike. Well, if you think ‘Stefenson’ is a Norwegian name, I suppose so.” Henry hummed. “Speaking of Viking, which leads to raiding parties, do you know what the status is on the joint Federal operation that’s coming our way?” “Shit. Forgot to check in on that. I’ve got some of our people keeping an eye out for them. Hold on a minute.” Henry jogged into the office and grabbed the hand-held radio lying on the desk. He turned it on and pressed the transmit button. “Number one to number two. Any sign of trouble?” Basil’s voice crackled over the radio. “Nope…no sign. Number three, see anything?” “Nothing.” This continued until almost all lookouts were checked. “Number nine, what do you see?” “Noth…wait! About thirteen miles southwest of the hangar I see 163

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something…it’s the task force. They are set up about six miles from me.” “They aren’t mobile, are they?” Henry asked. “No, they aren’t, number one. Uh, hold on a minute.” Silence. “Uh, number one, they have a tank.” Henry rolled his eyes. “Keep an eye out. If you even see an agent walk into the woods to take a piss, let me know.” “Okay…if you insist.” There was a snicker over the radio, then number nine stopped transmitting. Basil transmitted to Henry. “I don’t think we have to worry about pissing agents. It’s the whole damn FBI…” “Yes, number two. I know. I was making a funny.” “Ha ha ha,” he retorted. Then Basil finished transmitting. “How many people have shown up?” Travis asked once Henry put the radio away. “Uh…” Henry made a quick mental count. “Your ship has its full fifty, so that’s a quick one. I’ve seen forty-eight other people arrive. So we’re still two short. Scott thought it was a miracle we managed to get five more to commit and make it here, so there’s hope yet.” Scott and Ted walked out of the shuttle and joined Henry and Travis. “Jeez!” Scott remarked, “It sure is crowded in there!” “What do you expect? Two thirds of the ship is engine, life support and storage.” “Too bad you couldn’t get a bigger jet.” “None available.” Scott then said, “Wonderful,” rolled his eyes and went over to get a cup of coffee. “Hmph. Well, let’s get the jet fueled up. We need helium and water in the shuttle before daybreak. We’ve got less than three hours to get saddled up. We’ve got to get the shuttle fueled and packed before four.” --June 7. Special task force operational base. 2:25 A.M. One hundred personnel. The general folded his arms across his chest. And the latest intel says there should be ninety people we’ll have to deal 164

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with. He surveyed the operation, as the troops and agents organized for the pending assault. His protégé had the other officers and senior enlisted around the battle plan, figuring out the best plan of attack. He turned to the northeast, to the direction the strike force would be heading. The moon shone in from the west, casting silvery light on the vehicles and the tank, which sat idling nearby. He frowned as he thought about how things could go down… And then there was that dream. It still bugged him. What was that dream about? He had an idea…something told him he knew what was in that box. Esoteric space technology. It was his duty to get that technology, at all costs. He, personally, would try to avoid having to kill anyone, but he did have his orders. What really bugged him was the timing of the dream. He woke from the dream to be summoned to his office, where he was told who was behind the blast in Nevada. An experiment gone awry, as he understood it. And now that accident was to be used to tell all these troops that they were going after terrorists that had nuclear technology. Something just didn’t set right with him. Before he could think anymore about it, the lieutenant ran up to the general and saluted. “All personnel ready to deploy. I’ve suggested a pincers maneuver, considering the terrain and layout of the runway…if that is all right by you, sir.” “Excellent, Lieutenant. I would’ve suggested the same thing.” The general turned to the FBI team leader. “Agent Schlesinger, are your people ready?” He nodded, then put his hand to the earpiece he was wearing to better listen to something. “Schlesinger, can you get everyone together?” The FBI agent nodded, then spoke quietly into a microphone on his lapel. “Lieutenant, muster the troops.” “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant jogged off, yelling. “All right, everyone, listen up…” The agent spoke. “Okay. I’ve spread the word.” The general nodded, and watched as everyone gathered around to listen. He turned to the lieutenant. “Schlesinger, did our reconnaissance agent ever return?” The FBI agent indicated negative. “We did receive part of a coded 165

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message. It was scrambled a bit; from what, we don’t know. We suspect from some kind of radiation source or perhaps electromagnetic shielding.” “Can I see what you have?” The agent nodded and handed the general a piece of paper. >Z 070438ZJUN08 - FLASH - FM A0!#3N TO FEDBURINV WASH DC - AR?@W ALERT - MSG IS AS FOLLOWS: 1. LOCATION OF SUSPECTS CONZIVMED 15 MILES SSW OF ZRTON ME. SUGGEST IM5ED DEPLOYMENT OF OP84NTI,ES TO SE*U(- T&# /RE8. “I understand what the message is trying to convey,” the general stated. “All it does is confirm what we’ve figured out on our own.” The agent looked a bit slighted at the general’s remark. The general nodded somberly to the agent, telling him to carry on, and turned back to the group. He cleared his throat, picked up a nearby megaphone, and spoke into it. “Gentlemen. Ladies. Our moment has come. There are a hundred of us, and about ninety of them, from what we can tell. We don’t know what kind of armament they have. I’m sure they have something to protect themselves with. But we have a tank.” He gestured to the giant green machine idling in the woods, its engine rumbling in readiness. The general continued. “This is a very important mission for us. These people have detonated a nuclear device in American soil, and we cannot allow such an act of terrorism to go unpunished. We have to act now, before they decide to plant a device someplace more populated than the Nevada desert. It is our duty to God, country and family to put down and deter any acts of terrorism against the United States. Therefore, your orders are simple. As nice as it may be to outright kill such criminals, your orders are to take them alive…unless they resist with violence. We need them alive for trial, otherwise, nobody else will see just how serious America is about its stance against terrorism. You all know who your team leaders are. They will brief you on your particular objectives. I will tell you that we will be using a pincers maneuver and attempt to surround them. The tank will come around from the other side. This will hopefully force the terrorists to flee into our trap, where we will surround them in the woods. Your platoon leaders and team leaders will give you the intimate details. These are your orders. Good luck.” The general turned off the megaphone and put it back on a nearby stool. 166

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The lieutenant walked up and gave the general a concerned look. “Something wrong, Lieutenant?” “Just have a funny feeling about this. I’ve been thinking, sir…” The general grinned at the young officer. “Soldiers don’t ‘think,’ Lieutenant. They do.” The man smiled. “What’s on your mind?” “Well…can’t say for sure. I suspect that if they do get off the ground, they’ll be going for someplace to colonize. Couldn’t we capitalize on that?” The general shook his head. “They may not come back. We can’t capitalize on something that isn’t here for us to use.” The lieutenant sulked a bit. “Understood, sir. Still…” The general gave the man a concerned look. “Spit it out, soldier.” “Well…I can’t help but feel that if we don’t let them go, something bad will happen. I know it sounds stupid, sir…” How close to his thinking the lieutenant’s was didn’t surprise him much. He did, after all, teach the young officer almost all he knew. “It’s not that stupid. I’ve often dreamed of going to space, and if I get this prize, maybe I’ll have some leverage with the boys in Washington. And I’m sure you’re nervous about us killing what really are innocent civilians.” The general sighed. “I know it stinks, but I think I’ve at least given those people up there a chance for survival. As long as they don’t fight back. We have orders to follow, and that’s that. You have a team to lead, Lieutenant.” “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant saluted, then jogged over to a group of soldiers. “Soldiers! Form up! We’re moving out!” The general sighed deeply, and turned to a jeep that was ready to whisk him off to the area of operations. He climbed into the jeep, being driven by an airman, fresh out of boot camp. Buckling himself in, he settled down for the trek northeast. The jeep lurched forward and traveled fast enough to stay with the strike force. He looked at his watch: 0232. Their estimated time of arrival was 0400 hours. The tank was near the rear of the column, trundling up the old logging road that the strike force was using to approach the hangar and the air field. He watched the shadows of the trees; dim silhouettes in the moonlight. They must go… 167

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“No.” “Sir?” The airman gave a quick glance at the general. “Mm? Nothing, airman. Just watch where you’re going. Don’t run over anyone.” “Yes, sir.” The general frowned. The strange voice he heard in his dream seemed to still echo in his mind. He could not afford to be distracted by that. Instead, he forced his mind to work on tactics: what would they do if something unexpected happened? What kind of things could they expect? He knew there was an excellent chance they were unarmed, so as long as they arrived in time, before the shuttle got airborne, this was going to prove to be a very short operation. His lieutenant jogged up beside the jeep. “General…” “Yes?” “Technical Sergeant Simons just contacted me. He’s on his way to Orton, and should be meeting up with us there.” “Really? Why?” “He thinks he might be able to help…just in case they do get away. He is fully trained in cracking computers, sir.” “I know that. His presence might not be necessary. We just have to stop the shuttle…” “Shuttles, sir.” The general turned an eye to the lieutenant. “What?” “He also informed me there’s an excellent chance there may be two shuttles. He did some further research into similar disappearances in the Seattle area, and he deduced that there may be a second shuttle. A similar aircraft left the Seattle area three and a half hours ago, and then dropped off of the radar.” “Hmm. Interesting. All right, Lieutenant, how do you think that changes things?” “One of the two shuttles may get away, but it’s unlikely if we strike quickly enough. If both do, we still may have a chance of getting the technology from whatever computer equipment they have. Or from written notes. Operationwise, it doesn’t change anything, from our point of view.” “Good evaluation.” 168

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“Thank you, sir. I’m going back to my platoon, with your permission.” “Very well.” The lieutenant saluted and fell back. The general stared back out into the dark woods and thought in silence. The rumbling of the engines echoed throughout the forest. They must go… I can’t let them go. I have a job to do, he thought to himself. He still couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He had been through both Gulf wars in the Middle East, and always felt confident about what he was doing. Sure, when he was under fire, the adrenaline would kick in, but he handled it just fine. He started his career in Grenada, and had no problems there, either. Why this simple little expedition should worry him, he had no idea. --The landing field. 2:32 A.M. “Number one! Every damn soldier and agent is moving north, and I don’t think it’s to take a leak!” “Got it. Estimated time of arrival?” “Two hours, perhaps more, perhaps less.” “Hopefully more than two hours. Everyone come on in. Number nine, move in within a half mile of the hangar. Once the troops and agents are within three miles of the hangar, high-tail it over here. And keep me informed of any changes, such as them arriving earlier or something.” “Got it.” Henry motioned to Ted. “Ted. We’re going to be leaving very soon. The task force is about two hours out. Did you take care of setting up Homestation?” Ted nodded. “Yes. Some of the alternates will be manning that. Al, the ham radio operator, will maintain the communications station, and the rest will research various people on the planet for selection.” Henry nodded. “Okay, I’d best inform the rest of the people here of the situation. Did those last two people show up?” Ted nodded. “They’re getting their stuff loaded now–what of it they can take, anyway. That gives us our one hundred people.” “Good.” Henry climbed up on a crate and made an announcement. 169

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“Attention everybody…attention.” Everyone stopped what they were doing to listen. Henry continued. “We’ve got to depart in less than two hours. Everybody has been assigned a room. Does everyone know which room is theirs?” Everyone nodded. “Good…” Henry went through some paperwork. “Okay. I’ve got a list of assignments here so everyone knows what they’ll be doing on the journey. Basil is the chief engineer of the Explorer, and Mike…” He nodded to the redheaded man. “…has it for the Pioneer. You know what to do, right?” “Duh,” Basil goaded. There was a slight twitter of laughter from the crowd. Henry only smiled and shook his head. “Okay. Leader of the bridge crews are Scott for the Explorer and Sam for the Pioneer. Good luck, guys.” The crowd chuckled again. “Okay. Travis has command of the Explorer, and Ted has the Pioneer…” Scott chimed in. “Why don’t you captain the Explorer? Hell, why don’t you run the whole shebang? You’ve led us this far, might as well finish the job.” He stood up. “I don’t know how the rest of you feel, but I’ve known this guy for a while. I find it funny, he used to dream of something like this. He’s spent time in the military, and, in fact, was decorated for his skills and leadership there, so he definitely has the leadership skills. I don’t think anyone else in this troupe really can qualify more for the job. And besides.” He glanced towards Henry. “It’s your brainchild.” The group of people murmured among themselves a bit; some nodding, others shrugging. “You organized the entire event, Henry,” Basil said. “I don’t see why anyone else should have the job.” He snickered. “Besides, if we don’t make it, we’ll elect you out later…or eject you out later.” The crowd chuckled. Henry raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He smirked. “I suppose. I suppose you are all right. Okay, then, I guess I’m the skipper. And Scott, since you nominated me…” Henry grinned, “…not only will I put you in charge of the bridge crew, I’ll make you my next in command.” Scott groaned. “Thank you ever so much.” 170

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--3:55 A.M. The light of dawn grew brighter on the eastern horizon; the thin, wispy clouds forming small gray bands in the dark blue sky. “Number one, this is number nine. The task force is just under one mile out. They’re splitting into two groups. I’m heading in.” “Very good. Hurry. We’ll be departing soon.” “Okay.” Henry turned to Scott. “They’re going to try to outflank us.” Scott nodded. “Well, we have the lasers. We could always blast them.” “No. I don’t want to make the situation any worse than it is already. The shields should be able to handle anything they throw at us.” Henry grabbed a piece of paper he had scribbled a note on and tacked it on the wall of the hangar office before walking outside to where the Explorer was stationed. The group of people near the shuttles surrounded him. Henry then spoke to the crowd. He took a deep breath, and sighed. “Well, this is it. I suggest we take a moment of silence either for prayer or contemplation before we have to face the dragon.” The group nodded in unison, and bowed their heads. Henry closed his eyes and went into quiet contemplation. The silence was unnerving. Henry’s mind strained to hear even the dawn chirp of birds, but there wasn’t a sound except his own breathing. He tried to relax in this quiet moment, but he found it virtually impossible. Instead of seeing darkness with his closed eyes, he could visualize the tank crashing through the woods, with throngs of armed men and women following behind. His mind wanted to go so far as visualizing the shuttles not being able to leave–perhaps even being blown up–but Henry shook his head and derailed the thought. He opened his eyes. “All right, everyone. Let’s get going.” The last scout drove up to the shuttle and screeched to a halt, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. He leaped out of the car, and asked, “Did I miss anything?” He looked quite frazzled. “Just a moment of silence,” Henry responded. “Hurry up and board. Anything new?” “Yes! The FBI and the Army are right on my tail!” 171

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“Ohhh…” Henry raised his voice. “Hurry up, people! We don’t have much time!” Henry helped direct everyone into their shuttles. Sarah was among the last, carrying the toddler. He followed her up the ramp and into the Explorer. He quickly gave her a peck on the cheek. “Get him strapped in,” he told her. “And you, too. I love you…both.” “And we both love you,” Sarah replied. She gave a quick kiss back, and Henry quickly moved into the cockpit. He found the center seat and strapped himself in. The ship began to pull out on to the runway. “All systems go,” Scott reported. “How’s the Pioneer doing?” “They’re right behind us,” Scott replied. All of a sudden, there was movement in the woods. “Raise shields! Quick!” “Shields raised,” Scott reported. Lex pushed forward on the throttle and the shuttle lurched forward. Just as the plane began accelerating, fifty or so heavily-armed soldiers and federal agents rushed out of the woods and deployed. A tank crashed out of the woods. A jeep rolled out, carrying some military personnel, including the general. It placed itself right at the end of the runway. The general stepped out and produced a megaphone. “Attention to the people in the vessel. Bring your craft to a full stop and prepare to be boarded. This is your only warning.” “They’re right in the way!” Lex warned. He was so nervous that the stick wobbled in his shaking arms. “No shit!” Henry responded. They began the takeoff. “Speed!” Henry called. “Thirty MPH…forty…fifty…” The tank stopped to the right of the runway and aimed its muzzle towards the vessel. “Damn…HURRY!” Scott yelled. “Don’t worry. Have faith. Everybody. It was faith that got me the plans to this ship. It was faith that you all would come. Have faith now so that we get this piece of tin off the ground.” Henry stated. The general nodded towards the tank. It fired. 172

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Sparks flew from one of the consoles within the cockpit. Henry grabbed a fire extinguisher and put the flame out. “Status!” “All stations normal, except the GEOCOM, which is what just got shorted out. Pioneer is right behind us, and they’re still okay. Damn it, Henry, what’s taking so long!?” Scott yelled. Henry shrugged. Scott nervously eyed the readout. “Finally!” he exclaimed. “Our acceleration just jumped. We can lift off in two seconds…one…” Dozens more agents and soldiers clamored onto the runway from the other side. One of them began to set up a rocket launcher. “Lex!” Henry ordered. “I know! I know!” He pulled back on the yoke, and the nose pitched skyward. “Yeah!” Scott hollered in triumph. The remainder of the crew in the cockpit followed suit with their hoots and cheers. Scott watched the tank, the general, and everyone else pass underneath the shuttle. For good measure, even though he knew they couldn’t see him, he gave the people below the finger. Henry fell back in his seat and sighed deeply. “We made it. We fucking made it! Good job, everyone!” Scott watched something on the console and frowned. “Wait…” Scott implored. Everyone in the cockpit ignored Scott’s call for attention, as they congratulated each other on their narrow escape. “HEY!” Scott finally yelled. The ship quieted down. Henry saw the look of dread on Scott’s face. “What’s wrong?” --Inside the Pioneer. “Come on, Mike, give us some power!” Ted ordered. The response crackled through the cabin speaker. “I’m doing my best. I don’t know why she’s running so sluggish.” “Hurry up!” The bridge crew watched as the cannon on the tank fired at the Explorer 173

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and hit it dead on. Ted hissed through his teeth. “I hope they’re all right.” Sam nodded as he checked one of the consoles. “They’re all right. They lost the GEOCOM, though.” “Damn,” Ted stated. “Well, could be worse…at least we have a spare one of those.” He sighed. “Too bad we have to rely on their navigational computer just to get around, until our nav system is set up properly!” Sam shrugged. “Well, like you said, could be worse.” He pointed ahead. “And it is.” The muzzle on the tank was now pointing at the Pioneer. “How’s the Explorer doing?” Ted asked. Sam pointed. “It’s just lifting off. Guess that’s why the tank gave up on them. Once they’re airborne, they’re outta here!” “And I hope so are we,” Ted finished. He pushed the intercom button. “Hurry up!” “Okay! You’ve got more power!” The ship lurched forward with added speed just as the tank fired. The ship shuddered with the impact from the shell and began to swerve wildly. “Sam! Get control!” “I can’t! The shock from the impact, coupled with the power surge, overloaded one of the electromags! It’s running out of control!” “Shit!!” Ted released his restraints and leaped over to the piloting console. The nose of the shuttle began to swerve off the runway and headed towards the woods. “Damn it.” Ted backed towards his seat, fumbling for the harness. Sam let go of the stick, knowing that he couldn’t do anything. The ship suddenly went silent for several seconds as it hurtled towards the dense growth of the forest. --On the ground below. The general looked up into the sky, watching the Explorer escape into the predawn sky. He then looked towards the Pioneer, which managed to plow its way through one hundred yards of forest before coming to a 174

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complete stop. Smoke came out of the starboard electromagnetic engine. The lieutenant walked up to the general and stood next to him. “Well…we got one of them.” Dozens of soldiers and special agents surrounded the disabled shuttle, aiming their guns towards it. The agent in charge turned on his megaphone and began demanding the occupants’ immediate surrender. The general nodded. “One is all we need.” “Should we search the hangar for other documents?” “I’m already two steps ahead of you, Lieutenant. I’ve got your tech sergeant searching through the hangar right now. In fact, here he comes.” The sergeant presented himself before the general and saluted. “What did you find, Sergeant?” “Uh…” The sergeant scratched his head and blushed a little. “I found the missing FBI agent…tied up, naked in a closet.” The general raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, that explains that. Is he okay?” The sergeant responded, “Yes, sir. I also found a note. There were also other scraps of paper, but it seems to mostly be calculations of some sort. Can’t make much out of them. I’m going to see what I can pull off of their computers shortly.” He handed the general the note. The general rummaged around inside his jacket and produced his glasses. He gingerly put them on and began reading. “To whom it may concern. We apologize for any of the difficulties the ‘accident’ in Nevada may have caused you or the United States government. We’re not terrorists, just voyagers leaving for a distant land. Hopefully, we find what we are looking for. Some of us will return from time to time. Please don’t try to find us, as it will be extremely difficult. That, and it would defeat the purpose of our overall mission, and one that I think would greatly benefit the world. When we return, we plan on taking some of the needy with us. If we can build to large enough of a scale, perhaps we can even bring enough people back with us and help prevent overpopulating Earth. If we cannot find a new world, we plan on releasing the technology we discovered and leave it in your hands. At any rate, we don’t know what’s out there, and this was our one window of opportunity to find out. The future of humanity may very well hang in the balance. We will return, and we will give you word if and when we decide 175

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to reveal our technology to you. In the meantime, farewell.” The general took his glasses off and placed them on the hood of the jeep. He wiped his brow with his coat sleeve. “Wow,” the lieutenant remarked. The general nodded. “What do we tell the President?” “That they were terrorists and they managed to escape to Iraq or something.” “You mean, we won’t tell him…” “No. Not for a very long time.” He looked back at the Pioneer, which was now being evacuated; the occupants being ‘escorted’ away from the disabled shuttle. “For all the rest of the people here know, too, they were just escaping to Iraq. Or something. You understand, correct?” “Yes, sir.” “Get the medics to help the wounded,” the general ordered. “And get this mess cleaned up. No, wait.” The general thought. “Yes, get the shuttle to a secret base, then replace it with a different wreck. I had a better idea. It should make the international community think that the terrorists tried to fight back and we had no means but to take them out.” The lieutenant hesitated a bit. “You’re disappearing them?” “Do you have a problem?” The general glared at the officer. “N…no, sir. I’m on it!” The lieutenant hurried off. “Sir?” the sergeant asked. “Am I free to continue my work?” “Yes. I’ll be right behind you.” The sergeant saluted and ran back to the hangar. The general followed behind, but at a slower pace. He watched the federal agents round up the rest of the shuttle’s occupants. The lead agent jogged over to the general. The general sighed and wondered what the man was going to want now. “General,” the agent addressed. “What is it, Schlesinger?” the general replied with some annoyance. “We have two casualties within the jet.” The general cursed quietly under his breath. “I didn’t want it to come to that.” “They resisted…” 176

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“I realize that, agent,” the general interrupted. He folded his hands behind his back and sighed. “See to it that the bodies are properly taken care of. I’ll be taking them with me.” “Taking them with you?” “Yes.” The general turned back to the hangar, leaving the agent to his task. The general walked into the large hangar. Looking around, he saw some debris scattered among the supplies that were left behind in the escapees’ haste. The tech sergeant was busily hacking one of the computers in the hangar, cursing occasionally when he hit a block. The general smirked, glad to see his people were so eager to get the job done and done right. He strolled into the hangar office. Debris was strewn about on the desks: papers, plastic coffee cups, and the like. A couple large but flat parcels, still wrapped in brown shipping paper, leaned against a wall. Frowning, the general walked over and picked up the two parcels. He pushed the debris off of one of the desks with the parcels, rested the items on the desk, and tore the paper off. A strange emotion washed over the general when he saw what was inside the first parcel. It was an impressionistic painting of a tank, with its muzzle pointed at the viewer. The general looked out the window at the tank. Its muzzle happened to be pointing at the hangar, right at the window. The general swallowed and moved to the other side of the desk, out of sight of the tank. He leaned the first painting up against the wall and opened the second. His mouth hung open. It was a picture that seems to radiate its own light. A human-like figure was in the center of the glowing painting–the artist was successful in making it appear that the being itself glowed. But what he saw the being holding in its outstretched arms sent a shockwave through the man’s mind. He had seen it before. He had seen that box before, just the previous night. “Sir?” The lieutenant stood in the doorway, looking concerned. The general whipped the brown paper back over the painting. Growling, the general said, “Lieutenant, I told you to…” “I’ve already made the arrangements, sir,” the lieutenant interrupted, his voice quaking just slightly. “We’ve got a team dispatched to move the jet to a secure location.” 177

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“Not just any location, I hope,” the general said, still staring at the brown paper covering the painting. “No, sir. I figured you wanted it in an area with the best security available.” “Good.” The general grabbed the painting off of the desk and brushed past the lieutenant, hurrying back out into the hangar. He was surprised at his reaction, at the sudden feeling of claustrophobia he was now dealing with. As calmly as possible, he strode out of the hangar, carrying the partially wrapped painting under one arm. Turning the corner as he stepped outside, he saw the agents carrying the bagged corpses away from the jet. He couldn’t tell his lieutenant that his own boss already had an idea what was being built, even before the lieutenant confirmed it. His boss had guessed what was going on, all along. And he could never let on that he, too, knew all along that these people were not terrorists. Like some kind of vengeful deity, his conscious prodded him with one, nagging question. What have you done? “My job,” he quietly said. “I’ve done my job.” He straightened his jacket with his one free hand and walked back to the jeep.

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EXODUS X In orbit around Earth. 4:28 A.M. Henry held on to a handle and looked out the starboard cockpit viewport to the Earth below. A dark shadow hung across his face. Scott stared at the mock-up near his station. Many yellow lights covered the mock-up, and the display above the mock-up read “PIONEER,” indicating the link to the other shuttle’s systems was operational–for now. A few red lights were lit for the starboard electromagnetic engine. Overall, the structural integrity of the ship appeared fine, thanks to the fact that at least some of their shields were working, but that didn’t seem to matter very much at the moment. He turned to Henry. “Suppose they’re okay?” “Don’t know,” he said, distantly. “What are we going to do?” Lex asked. “Don’t know,” he said again. He scuffed his right foot on the deck and coughed lightly. Basil floated into the cockpit. The door closed behind him with a pneumatic hiss. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, heard the news. Do you suppose…” Scott raised his hand. Basil immediately saw the dangerous look on Henry’s face. He got the message and headed back out the way he came. The bridge remained in a dead silence. Lex looked down to his knees and

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fidgeted with the control stick. Outside, the giant blue ball of Earth shimmered in the blackness of space. Henry finally cleared his throat. “Options.” “We could go after them,” Scott immediately offered. “If they take the ship in to examine it, we can track it from its beacon. If they don’t find the beacon. Even then, we can still probably pick up the radioactive signatures from the MAMPS fuel system with the GEOCOM…” Henry pointed to the burned out console. Scott sighed. “It was just a thought.” “I know. And it’s a noble one. I don’t know if it feasibly can be done. But I don’t feel right just heading off for the dim vista with them on Earth.” Scott nodded in understanding, but Henry didn’t see him. He was still looking out the window at the Earth below. There was a large weather system hanging just west of New England, and Henry watched as the lightning played out of it. “Can we fix the GEOCOM?” “Huh?” Scott mumbled. Henry repeated himself, this time more deliberately. “Can we fix the GEOCOM?” “Uh, I don’t know. Hold on.” He pushed an intercom button. “Gary, can you meet me just outside engineering? We’re going into the cargo hold.” The voice replied. “Uh, sure. What’s up?” “I’ll tell you when we get there.” Scott unstrapped himself and pulled his way towards the exit. The door promptly opened, waited for Scott to make his way through, and then promptly closed behind him. Henry stayed where he was, only shifting enough to keep his place near the window without floating into something. The remainder of the bridge crew–which now only included Lex and one other–sat in silence and pondered the events of the day. After several minutes–which seem to last several days–Scott came back through the door. He was smiling a little, indicating there was some bright news. “We have parts to fix the GEOCOM…of course I knew we did, heh…” He cleared his throat. “But you never know what gets packed and what doesn’t when space is at such a premium and you’re in a big rush.” Henry nodded silently. “Well, get to it. I have to go and plan something 180

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out.” He moved and floated past Scott, not even giving him a glance. He floated out the hatchway and into the passageway. The door closed behind him. The cockpit remained silent for several minutes until Lex said something. “So, I suppose we’re going to have to sneak back down to the planet and try to rescue them.” “I believe that was Henry’s intention.” Scott pulled himself back into his seat and secured the restraining harness. He pushed a button on the intercom. “Basil…you know the trick. Try to warp us down there or we’ll be spotted.” A loud sigh rumbled out of the cabin speaker. “I find it funny that we built this damn thing to go to other solar systems, but instead we’re using it to do risky precision maneuvers. I’ll get onto the computations, but I’m only going to get us within a thousand feet of the surface.” “That’ll be fine.” Scott turned the intercom off. He turned to Lex. “Where do you suppose you’d take people and equipment that was deemed of the highest confidentiality?” Lex turned to Scott, his eyebrows raised. --Area 51. 11:55 P.M. General McGowan walked down the long, bland corridor. At the far end was a gray door. He marched down at a quick pace, the echo of his shoes ringing down the length of the hallway, making it sound like an entire division was marching in that hallway. When he finally got to the door, he paused for a moment, straightened his tie, and opened the door. Inside was a plainly decorated but large office. The only two lights lit in the room were in the far corner where there was a plant, and on a large, tidy desk. Behind the desk sat what appeared to be a young man that somehow managed to make it to Colonel in only a few short years. He raised his head from his paperwork, saw the general coming in, and stood up. “General.” “Colonel.” He hung his hat on a nearby hat rack. “How was the trip, sir?” “Long and tiring,” the general replied. He took off his glasses to wipe at

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his eyes, then replaced his glasses. “Things haven’t been this frantic for me for quite some time.” “Understandable. I’ll have someone get your office set up. We can put in one of our better cots in there until we arrange better quarters, if that will suffice.” The general nodded. “Sure. So, what’s our status?” “We have the occupants of…what they call the Pioneer in holding. They dinged up the shuttle a bit. Structurally, it is okay, which is a surprise; but apparently their starboard engine shorted out. We were actually able to fly it here, but it was touch-and-go with that engine out. There were also several fires inside, but they seemed to only damage secondary equipment. We are yet to make heads or tails of their antimatter propulsion system, but we should be able to test it and see what it does in only a couple days. I have all our crews working on the ship, just as you ordered.” The general nodded in approval. “That’ll be fine.” “One question, if I may, sir.” “Go ahead.” “Should we put added security on the perimeter? In case the second shuttle comes back and they try to free their friends?” The general frowned. “They might try, but I doubt it. Besides, where are we going to find extra people we can trust on such short notice? You can put in a request for it, but don’t expect too quick of a result.” “Understood, General. I’ll get on it.” “In the meantime…how are our guests doing?” The colonel raised an eyebrow. “Well…two of them died in the accident, and one died later. The rest are okay. Are you concerned about them in some way?” “Hmm? No, it’s not that. I wanted to know if they had any information we could use.” The colonel shook his head. “Nothing that we don’t already know. It turns out that Ted Fleming, who was the leader of this group until he had an unfortunate incident with one of the ship consoles during your assault, funded the entire project. Ever hear of Digisoft?” “Yes.” “He owns it. Well, he did own it.” 182

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“Really!” The general raised his eyebrows in amazement. “I did not know that. He’s got plenty of money. Why would he want to leave Earth?” The colonel shrugged. “Anyway, there was one survivor in engineering, who I’ve been able to ascertain is a very close friend of Ted, and I’m sure he has lots of contacts…and I just can’t help but have this feeling there’s more here than meets the eye.” “What do you mean?” “Well…” The colonel left his desk and paced around a bit. “Call it a hunch. I bet they have some kind of backup plan. Such as a second base we don’t know about. What use it is to them, I can only speculate. But if I had the money, I’d do it. In fact, maybe if the other shuttle does return to rescue these people, they may use that base to land at.” “Sounds logical.” The general finally pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of the desk. “Please, colonel, sit down! Pacing makes me nervous.” “Sorry, sir.” He quickly walked back to his high-back chair and sat in it. It squeaked loudly. “So,” said the general, as he leaned back and crossed his legs, “what do you have planned?” “Planned? Oh.” The colonel opened a drawer and pulled out a folder. He opened it. “Basically, working on my hunch, we’re trying to ascertain where this second base could be. There could be more detailed information on the main propulsion system there. Due to the accident, some of the components in what appears to be the engineering space have come undone in such a way that we can’t figure out what goes where.” “I don’t understand.” “Well…nothing’s broken, as far as we can tell. But the problem is that we can’t tell if anything’s broken or not because we don’t know how to run it. Two of the three people who died were in the engineering space, you see, and nobody else has owned up to knowing how to operate the systems. When we inspected the engineering space, several cables and conduits had come loose.” The colonel leaned forward. “Or were pulled loose.” “To the antimatter units?” “Affirmative, sir. I think they went for that first, knowing it’d take them longer to disable all propulsion.” The general nodded. “That makes sense.” 183

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Leaning back into his chair, the colonel continued. “At any rate, that’s what we need to do. Like I said, I’ve been working the only survivor found in engineering, to see if we can get knowledge about the propulsion systems.” “Haven’t you used any serum on him yet?” The colonel sighed. “Yes, we have. First thing we tried. He told the truth.” “And?” The general frowned. “Well, essentially he told us he knew how the system worked and that he wouldn’t tell us. And, ‘that is the truth.’” “I bet it pissed you off.” The general smirked a little. “Yes, sir, it did. My technical sergeant hauled one off at him. Little good it did. Can’t figure it out.” “So are you going to keep trying?” The colonel nodded. “Yes, sir. I thought about upping the dosage…” “That could kill him. And I strictly gave orders not to kill anyone.” “Understood, and that’s why I didn’t. But, that’s why I’ve been thinking about this second base that could exist. I have spy satellites searching the country for anything suspicious.” --June 10. A small town in Nevada. Henry, Scott, Basil and Travis stood, sweating, outside a garish inn, looking at an equally garish sign. Earthlings welcome! “Wonder if we qualify,” Scott asked. Basil turned to Scott. “How so?” “Well…we’re not exactly residents of Earth anymore, thanks to our being wanted by every government agent in the world, probably. We can’t really ever call Earth home again.” “Well,” Henry finally said, “let’s go and check in.” The four walked off of the hot, dusty street and into the somewhat cooler hotel lobby to look around. The lobby was incredibly tacky and somewhat decrepit. A small kiosk rested against a wall with pamphlets about strange phenomena. In the distance, they could hear an air conditioner rattling as it tried to cool the air. 184

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“God,” Scott said quietly. “Déjà vu!” “Yeah,” Basil agreed. “But gaudier.” Travis shot the two a quizzical stare. “Long story,” Scott said. “I’ll tell you…later.” He scanned the lobby. There were two campy-looking tourists at the counter checking in with a lady with fake alien antennae on her head. To the left, he saw an entrance to a diner attached to the hotel. It appeared that lunch had started, and apparently everyone in the town had come to eat there–all one hundred or so, Scott thought. Yep. Déjà vu, all right. Yet another small town in Nevada, doing this secret agent shit. He looked at Henry, who was also looking around the place. I’m never going to forgive him for this. He continued looking around the immediate area, just in case. He saw not much of anything else of interest. The tacky couple stepped away from the counter. Henry signaled for the four to come up to the counter. The lady greeted them. “Greetings, Earthlings. How may I assist you today?” “Two double rooms, please. Open-ended duration.” “Are you here to see the lights?” “Uh, yeah. We’re…sightseeing of sorts, I guess.” Henry shuffled a foot. The lady leaned forward, the antennae bopping Henry on the head. “Well, I hear tell there’s a lot of activity out by Area 51 this time of year.” “Where?” Scott elbowed Henry. “Yeah, that’s what we’re looking for. Aliens.” The lady flashed a big smile. “Well, you enjoy your stay then. It’ll be fifty a night per room. We’ll need each night up front, if you’re going to pay by day.” Henry nodded and pulled out a wad of twenties. “Okay, here’s a hundred.” The lady reached behind her and grabbed two sets of keys. “And…here are your keys. Rooms are out back. Farewell, Earthlings!” The four walked away from the counter and looked for the exit that led to their rooms. Scott whispered to Henry while they looked. “She meant the infamous Area 51.” “Oh, yeah, I figured that out later,” he whispered back. He pointed.

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“There’s where we go. Let’s drop our bags off and come back to get something to eat.” --The four men sat in a booth, overlooking the dirt parking lot outside. Henry was currently busy munching on a cheeseburger–called a Martian burger at this establishment. They had even gone so far as to dye the cheese green. Travis and Basil each had tuna sandwiches, while Scott ordered nothing but water. Scott kept his head down and warily eyed the other occupants of the diner. Quietly, he said, “You know there have to be secret agents around here. It’s such a hotspot for stuff like that, you know.” In between bites, Henry reassured, “Don’t be so damn paranoid. We’re tourists. We look like tourists.” He continued to eat and stare at the UFO pictures on the walls. “Yeah,” Scott whispered back. “And our faces are frozen into the memories of everyone in here, I bet.” Basil coughed and gagged for a moment, then swallowed hard. “Went down the wrong way.” He grabbed a drink of some soda. Travis hunkered down over the table now. “So…what’s the plan?” Henry looked around to ensure nobody was listening. “We find someone who can take us out to Area 51’s perimeter. Hopefully, our friends will be there.” “You got friends out at the perimeter?” someone behind Henry asked. It caused all four men to jump halfway out of their seats. Basil almost inhaled another bite of sandwich. Henry frowned angrily at the man staring at them. “What do you want?” “Oh, I’m sorry. Couldn’t help but overhear. Practically everyone around here wants to get to the perimeter to watch the lights over the secret base. Heh. Not so secret anymore, I guess. Hasn’t been for, oh, almost twenty years. The guards frequently patrol the area to make sure nobody gets too brave and tries to cross the perimeter. Though many have tried…but only a few have succeeded.” The hairy man shifted his eyes left to right. “And they never returned,” he said with a hush. His eyes went wide. 186

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What a bunch of bullshit, Scott thought, and then hoped he didn’t say it out loud. Henry continued to scrutinize the man. “So, what’s your angle?” The man raised his eyebrows. “Angle? Why, I’m just a tour guide, that’s all.” He looked left and right, as if to add to the drama. He quietly offered, “I can take you out there, if you want.” Henry squinted. “Let us think about that for a bit. Where can we find you?” The man handed each of them a flyer. On it were printed huge letters: Area 51 Tours. Henry looked at the pamphlet. “That’s kind of drawing attention to yourself, isn’t it?” “Oh,” the man said with flair, as he rolled his head around. “You can bet I get lots of visits from…secret agents from time to time.” His eyes went wide again. “But seriously. Mostly I just have an Air Force jeep follow me just to make sure I stay honest. I never allow anyone with me to try to get over the fence. If I did…well, it would be bad for business. The government doesn’t look too kindly on aiding someone in a federal crime.” Henry nodded. “Okay. I’ll discuss it with my friends. We might see you in a couple hours or so.” The man smiled broadly. “Great. See you then.” He grabbed his bill and walked over to the cashier. Henry turned back to the group, all of whom were looking around the diner and hiding their faces as if their brother-in-law had just walked in and was looking for a handout. Henry frowned. “You know, you draw attention to yourself by doing that,” he whispered. Scott straightened up. “Sorry. So, are we gonna do it?” Henry shrugged. “We’ll go with a group of tourists.” He pointed out the window to an old school bus that happened to have “Area 51 Tours” scrawled on the side. “We can get out there that way without drawing too much attention.”

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--8:14 P.M. Outside the perimeter. Twenty or so people milled about the trampled dirt just outside the perimeter. Several gawked at the giant sign hanging from the fence that read, “No Trespassing, Use of Lethal Force Authorized.” Behind the fence was a shallow hill, holding only minimal vegetation. Henry and his friends stood near the bus, their arms crossed, pretending to watch the darkening sky. “Well, this is boring!” Scott announced. He stifled a yawn. Henry nodded in agreement. He looked around. “Quite convenient that there isn’t any cover here for us. Just one big dirt lot. We’d be spotted easily.” “Yeah,” Travis said, “and we haven’t even seen anything interesting, except for about ten choppers coming by to keep tabs on the people here. This sucks.” “I hear you’re having difficulties with the tour?” the scruffy man asked. He walked up to them. Henry nodded. “Yeah. So far the only ‘lights’ I’ve seen are from helicopter spotlights. Ever think that we won’t see anything in an area that’s so busy?” “Don’t think any ‘aliens’ or whatever is going to come around where there’s all this activity,” Scott chimed in, following on Henry’s lead. The man looked around again, shiftily. “Well…” he said, as he drew closer, “I could give you an exclusive tour…but it’ll cost ya.” “Really?” Henry said, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. “And how much would that be?” “One hundred. Each.” “Each!” Scott roared. “Shhh!” the man pleaded. “I don’t offer this to too many people. If you come around at midnight, I can show you a better spot where there won’t be all these soldiers watching as much,” he quietly said. Scott glared at the man. “That’s four hundred fucking dollars! What kind of fools do you take us for? We already shelled out eighty for this waste!” The man stood back. “I’ll give you a money-back guarantee. Well…half of it, anyway. Sometimes, nothing will show up. That’s just the way it is.” 188

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“Give us a moment,” Henry ordered. “Sure thing.” The man walked back to the rest of the crowd to tell them stories of all the strange things he had seen, but that the people in the crowd will probably never see. Henry turned to his companions. “Well?” Scott sighed. “We don’t have much of a choice, do we? We could try to make it to someplace ourselves, but we don’t know this area at all, and would probably attract a whole lot of attention.” “If this guy’s as good as he claims to be,” Basil added, “then we might as well try. It’s four hundred. Not like we’ll be needing money all that much if we’re successful.” “We won’t be needing much if we’re dead, either,” Scott said. “Always the optimist,” Basil retorted. He finished, quietly. “Besides…the only thing I’m concerned about is finding a quiet place to get in.” Henry nodded. “Guess we’ll do it.” --Midnight. The four stood in the shadow of one of the trailers in the trailer park, hiding from the light of a mercury vapor lamp. Henry peeked around the corner to see if the coast was clear. It being so, he waved his friends forward. They quietly trotted up to the tour guide’s trailer. The lights inside were out. “Maybe he decided against it,” Scott whispered. “I’m right here,” the man’s hushed voice came from somewhere. Henry looked around, but only saw darkness. “Let’s go,” the man quietly beckoned. “Go to the next trailer behind mine. I’ve got my car there.” Scott looked at Henry, and Henry shrugged. The four cautiously made their way to the next trailer and met the man in front of an old station wagon. The man grinned at them. “Nobody knows it, but I’ve souped this bad boy up so that it has fourwheel-drive and can go almost one hundred twenty miles per hour. It looks like shit, but it’ll get us there.” Henry raised a hand to tell the man to wait. “Scott…”

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“Right.” Scott pulled out a small wand from his pocket and handed it to Henry. “What’s that?” the man asked. “We could tell you, but then we’d have to kill you,” Basil joked. “Ohhh! I see,” the man replied, his eyes flashing. Henry adjusted the backpack he was carrying, turned on the device and walked around the car. “What’s in the backpack?” the man asked. “Photography equipment,” Henry lied. He worked his way to the rear of the vehicle. A light began to flash on the device when he got to the rear bumper. He crouched down, felt under the bumper, and pulled something off. He held it up for everyone to see that he had found a tracking device. He put it underneath the trailer next to him. Finishing his circuit around the car and finding no more bugs, he nodded his approval and everyone jumped into the car. Basil asked a question. “Do you think they’re watching here right now?” “Possible,” the man said. “But if they have a bug on me…or rather, had a bug, they may just be somewhere cozy watching its signal. I didn’t see any activity out there earlier, so we should be fine. If not, I can lose a tail. Remember, this baby can cook!” “As long as it isn’t our gooses that get cooked, I’ll be happy,” Scott snapped. “Relax!” the man replied. “I’ve done this before and have had no problems. Believe me, you’re not the first photographers I’ve taken out there.” Henry and Basil, who were in the back seat with Travis, looked at each other knowingly and smirked. “Ready?” the man asked. “Go ahead,” Henry answered. He took his backpack and put it in the back of the car. The man started the car. It started very quietly. He grinned, and Henry could see his grin in the rear view mirror. He turned on the headlights, put the car in drive and quietly pulled out onto the highway. They traveled down the dark road for a long time in silence, nobody speaking to anyone. The tension was too high. Finally, the man spoke. 190

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“Would one of you reach into the back and find a small black bag?” Henry frowned and turned around, looking. “Everything’s black here.” He fumbled around. “I found a bag.” “Does it have two straps on the front, snapped closed?” Henry felt the bag for its straps. “Yes.” “That’s it. Hand it here.” Henry did as he was asked. The man pulled over and opened the case to remove something that looked like a cross between diving goggles and binoculars. “Clever,” Scott said. “Night vision goggles.” “Yep. Sure you know all about them.” He put them on and turned out the headlights. “Our turn is just ahead.” He put the car back in gear and lurched forward into the darkness. Henry’s heart started pounding in his chest, while one hand gripped the nearby door handle and the other one squeezed Basil’s shoulder. Basil made an ouch of protest. The car went careening through the night, the sound of gravel crunching beneath them. The rollercoaster ride continued for what seemed to be hours until the car lurched to a stop. “We’re here,” the man dryly said. Henry whipped the car door open and stumbled out into the night air, breathing heavily. “God!” he yelled. “Shhh!” the man warned. “You never know who might be out here!” He pointed off to the distance. “ This spot is as close as you can get to the base without crossing the perimeter. Should get some good shots of UFOs visiting–if any show up, that is.” There was a fence there, at least ten feet tall, covered in razor wire. A path fifty feet wide on either side of the fence had been cleared of scrub trees and bushes. Travis got out of the car next, followed by Basil. “Think they have motion detectors?” Travis asked. The man stared at Travis. “You’re not actually thinking about going in there, are you? You’d be crazy! You’ll get plenty good pictures right here. And yes, they have motion detectors.” He pointed out into the darkness. “They’re placed two hundred feet apart in all directions.” Henry smirked as he grabbed his backpack out of the back of the station 191

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wagon. “Well, we got gadgets, too. We’ll manage.” “Ohhh, no!” The man waved his hands at the foursome. “You are crazy! Count me out! I’m outta here! Find your own way back!” “That’s fine. We’ll manage,” Henry said. “Gee, do we get our money back?” Scott gibed. The man backed away and leaped into his car. He started it and sped out into the darkness. The four stood there in the blackness of night, watching the skies above them. Large clouds were beginning to move in and blot out what stars there were. Scott saw a shooting star blaze a trail across the sky. It disappeared behind one of the large rainclouds. He pointed up. “Look! Aliens!” The four laughed heartily. Henry shook his head, laughing, and opened up the backpack. He took out what looked like a telescope and looked through it towards the fence. Through it he could see the infrared beams forming a barrier within the fence. He reported his findings. “We’ve got one foot of room to crawl under, more or less. We’ll have to find a wash or riverbed.” Scott nodded as he pulled out a set of wire clippers from the bag. He also pulled out what looked like four pistols. “Come and get ’em,” he announced. The four took their weapons. Travis turned his over in his hand. “We’re gonna kill people?” “Only if they try killing us,” Scott explained. “Something I cooked up from surfing the ‘net. Well, actually, I modified it with some of the technology our shuttles are based on. At its lowest setting, it’ll just stun them. At its highest setting…it turns their brains into goo. It’s a disruptor.” Travis made a face, signifying disgust. “Yecch. I don’t want to go around killing people.” “Think about this,” Scott continued. “We’ve got fifty people in there we need to rescue. The com system has pinpointed the Pioneer’s tracking beacon, so the people must be close by. If not, well, we’ll just have to take the Pioneer out and fly it ourselves to safety. And those fifty people in there, if they’re still alive, we have an obligation to help them out. Especially your brother. Understand?” Travis nodded glumly. “Okay. I’ll do it, but I won’t like it.” He holstered the gun. 192

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“One last thing,” Henry said. “Get into these.” He pulled out several black pieces of clothing. “Oh, aren’t we just playing the part,” Scott dryly remarked. He held up his set of clothing and scrutinized it. “Ninja outfits. You forgot the nunchakus, Henry.” “Get into them, Scott. That’s all I’m asking. It’ll make us harder to see. And the fibers are supposed to hold in our body heat so we’re less easily detectable. The clothes are designed to allow heat escape from only certain places so we end up looking like some kind of animal, not humans.” “Cunning. I’ve read about these,” Travis stated. “Chameleon clothes, I believe they’re called. The military was flirting with this technology about three years ago. They cost a bundle. I take it you used some of my brother’s money to get them?” “Yep. It’s your brother we’re saving, after all.” “Oh, I’m not complaining!” Travis grinned. “Come on, people!” Scott urged. He was all dressed up from head to toe in what looked like black pajamas. He sighed. “God. Why is it every time I end up in Nevada, I have to play dress-up?” Henry chuckled. “Because Travis is new at this, and we have to indoctrinate him.” “Yay,” Scott rolled his eyes. “And here I forgot my fraternity paddle.” The four people crept up to the fence. Scott readied the clippers. “Think the fence is set up to detect us cutting through it?” Henry pulled out his infrared long-glass and looked around. “Can’t see any boxes on the fence. Doesn’t mean they haven’t electrified it, though.” Scott shook his head and started cutting a small slit. “No…it’d kill the wild animals around here. Guess just an infrared barrier is enough. The one-foot high gap allows small animals through but makes it difficult for humans. Fewer false alarms. And I’m sure animals bang into this fence all the time.” He continued cutting link after link until he reached the bottom of the fence. He peeled the fence back. “Let’s hurry.” They passed through the breach in the fence and huddled on the other side. Scott took a small torch out of the backpack and began to weld the links back together. After about ten minutes, he turned the welding torch off and looked to the other three. “Well…we’re in it now. Let’s hurry up and find that riverbed.” 193

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Henry nodded. He waved to the other three to follow him. The four ran as quickly and quietly as they could along the inside edge of the fence, making sure they did not get too close to the beam. Suddenly, it started to rain lightly. Henry hoped that the rain that was coming would help wipe out their tracks. The stretch of land was flat for a very long way. Henry kept the eyepiece to his face to watch for obstacles and, of course, a riverbed. “See anything yet?” Basil asked, huffing. “No, just jeep tracks,” Henry replied. “Wait…slow down!” The four slowed their run to a walk. “What do you see?” Scott asked. “There. Fifty feet ahead.” The four walked to the riverbed and looked around. Underneath where the beam was supposed to be there was a small concrete berm, fitted with a grate, preventing anyone from simply crawling underneath the beam. “Shit,” Scott stated. He looked around to make sure nobody was coming. “What do we do now?” Henry shrugged. He knelt down into a puddle and pushed on the block. It budged a little. “I think it’s loose. Help me push it over. It’ll give us an extra six inches to use to crawl under the barrier.” The other three looked at each other and shrugged. They knelt down and start pushing. Gradually, the concrete slab leaned over and fell to the ground, giving the quartet about eighteen inches of clearance. “Come on,” Henry urged. He crawled over the block and managed not to touch the beam. He pulled out his eyepiece again to help the others make it through. Scott and Travis managed to get through just fine, only getting a little muddy, but when Basil’s turn came, there was a not-so-small problem. “Basil,” Henry stated, looking through the eyepiece, “your butt is one inch too high.” “Great,” Scott sighed. “You just had to eat all those burgers. Now look at the mess you got us into!” “Scott, chill!” Basil growled. He laid on the concrete slab, his rear end sticking up too high. Rain pelted him and splashed everywhere. Travis turned to Henry. “Maybe if we just get him through real quick, they’ll just think it’s an animal passing underneath? Maybe the rain will help 194

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mask his butt crossing the barrier?” Henry shrugged. “Worth a shot.” Travis and Henry grabbed Basil’s arms. “Hey! What’re you doing?” They pulled hard and Basil slid through real quick. They all fell backwards and landed in a large puddle. A red warning light started flashing about ten feet away, then immediately went off again. “Whew,” Henry sighed. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “Now comes the fun part,” Scott stated. “Finding these people of ours. And the Pioneer.” Henry nodded. “First, help me get this slab back up.”

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XI 4:33 A.M. The rain began to beat down harder now, turning the semi-arid soil into a heavy mud. The four ran at top speed to get to the compound before sunrise, which was only half an hour away. Henry had put his eyepiece away, since the rain would block most infrared radiation anyway. Besides, the approaching twilight had given them enough light to see where they were going. About one thousand yards in the distance, the four could see the building and the runway. The runway was devoid of activity, but they could see several patrols guarding various points of the building. The four found a small ravine and ducked down into it. “Any suggestions?” Scott asked quietly. Henry shrugged and looked around. About one hundred feet away, between the runway and themselves, there were three soldiers in a large pickup with an olive green cap, one of them scouting the horizon with a pair of high-power binoculars. The windows were rolled down, and the trespassing four could hear the soldiers carrying on a conversation. “Wonder what they’re talking about,” Scott whispered. “Don’t know…but remember their voices,” Henry said. He made an observation. “We’re pretty far from the base right now, yes?” Scott nodded. “What do you have in mind?” Henry looked around some more. “Is anyone watching?” “No, why? What…” 196

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Henry pulled out his disruptor and fired three shots at the guards. Scott hissed in dreadful anticipation, but the three shots struck true. The targets jiggled around a bit, then fell back in their seats. “Come on,” Henry urged. “We’re switching uniforms.” Scott shook his head in disbelief. The four sneaked up to the truck, ensuring nobody was watching, and hauled the three unconscious soldiers out of the cab. They promptly began to remove their uniforms. Basil looked at the fallen men. “None of them are my size.” “We’ll stash you in the back with these guys,” Scott said, pointing to the sleeping soldiers. Basil’s eyes went wide. “You nuts?” “Don’t worry,” Henry stated. “They’ll be out for several hours.” “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” Basil frowned. The other three put on the recently acquired uniforms and tossed the black outfits into the back of the truck. The four then stood around the three soldiers and stared at them. “Remember their faces, boys,” Henry said. “We’ll need to remember them.” Saying it more as a guess than a query, Scott replied, “You brought the makeup.” “I did, indeed. I tried to foresee every possible need we would have.” He handed out some facial putty to Scott and Travis, and they began creating a new face. “What if they got those palm readers?” Travis asked as he put his nose on. Henry pulled out a small box. He opened it to reveal a solid, gel-like substance inside. He grabbed the right hand of one of the men and squashed it into the gel. Next, he removed a small aerosol can and sprayed the inside of the gel liberally. Finally, he put his hand in the imprint, held it for several seconds, and removed it. “Got his fingerprints now.” He grinned. Scott frowned, half the facial putty hanging off his left cheek. “Will it work?” “Should. The gel is very sensitive to detail, and that spray is nothing more than that second skin stuff they used to sell as an alternative to adhesive bandages.” 197

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Scott hummed. “Guess you did think of everything.” Scout 93, report. “Except that,” Scott finished. The four hastily dumped the three sleepers into the covered bed of the truck. Basil jumped in behind them to find some kind of cover. The rest got into the truck. Henry climbed behind the wheel. Scout 93, report, came the query again. Scott looked anxiously at Henry. “Well? Answer them.” Henry reached for the microphone, but hesitated. Scout 81, report. Henry quickly eyed Scott, wondering if they had been figured out. Eighty-one, go ahead. Have you seen 93? Affirmative. About fifteen minutes ago. They were outside the truck looking at something. Do you know what? They’re not responding. Negative. Seventy-seven here. They’re probably out taking a leak. That’s Sergeant Miller’s truck, right? No names, 77. And that’s affirmative. Yeah, well, you figure it out. There was an audible sigh over the radio. Scout 93, report! This time Henry reached for the mic and pushed the transmit button. “Ninety-three here.” Damn it, 93, what the hell were you doing? “Uh…taking care of a small problem.” Your guys had to hold your hand again? One more slip-up like that and I’ll have to report you. What’s your position? Henry panicked for a bit. Position? What’s my position? He looked around. Finally, he saw a short post with numbers on it. “Forty-seven, three.” Understood. Get your butts off the end of the runway and report back in. You’re watch is almost over. Out. Everyone breathed a loud sigh of relief. “Damn, Henry,” Scott commented, “that was some mighty quick thinking!” 198

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Henry nodded. “Well, we better high tail it to wherever we gotta go, or they’ll get suspicious.” “Wonder where we go?” Henry pointed to another drab olive truck roaring across the dry lakebed. “Follow that truck, that’s what we do. It’s probably the end of someone else’s watch, too.” Henry turned the key and the engine started up with a roar. He quickly put on some facial putty–fortunately, he didn’t need much– and sped off towards the hangars. The other truck began to slow down at one of the smaller garage-like doors. It stopped just outside, where a man looked up into the truck and checked the driver’s identification. Scott started fidgeting with Henry’s face. “Damn. You look like you’re melting!” Henry squinted and tried to watch where he was going, despite Scott’s hands being all over his face. “Watch it!” he warned. He pulled up behind the second truck and waited his turn. The first truck pulled into the building, and Henry pulled up into its space. The man looked up at him. “ID.” “Uh, yeah…” Henry fished around in his shirt pockets. “Ah, here you go…Bill.” He squinted and snags the man’s first name off his identification badge. He handed his badge to the man he identified as Bill. The man squinted at the badge and back up to Henry. He snorted. “You. You’d better go to Ops and see the major. He’s fuming.” Henry played along. “Shit. Again?” “Yes, again. I’m betting at the least he’s going to break you three up, if not bust you in rank. Get going.” He waved him in. Henry slowly drove the truck into the big hangar. The three immediately gaped at the sight before them. “It’s the Pioneer!” Travis breathed. Henry nodded. “Well, that’s one objective down, and fifty to go.” He slowly drove the truck next to where the other was parked and stopped it there. He fished around in some more of the pockets of his uniform. “What are you looking for?” Scott asked. “Clues to this guy’s character. In case I have to play the part.” Scott sighed and rolled his eyes. “Two years in high school drama club, and he thinks he’s some kind of movie star or something.” 199

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There was a rapping on the cab window behind them. “What about me?” Basil quietly asked. “We’ll find you a lab coat or something. Surely there has to be civilian scientists around here.” Scott shrugged. Basil sighed and hid back down out of sight. Henry had pulled out various items from the man’s pockets. One of them was a picture of a girl. The name ‘Suzy’ was on the back. Another was a small book dealing with philosophy. There was also seven dollars and fifty-three cents. He held the money up. “Wonder where one can spend money on a secret base? At the NCO club?” “Yeah, but watch out for them spies.” Scott grinned broadly. “‘Martini. Shaken, not stirred,’” he said with a fake English accent. Henry opened his door and hopped out. Scott and Travis followed suit. Yet another soldier came up to them. “Hey. Hear you’re in a bit of trouble.” “Yeah…”Henry squinted again. “Jose. Just got to thinkin’…” “Yeah, well if you don’t watch yourself, you’ll philosophize yourself all the way back to private.” Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from a catwalk on the other side of the hangar. “Sergeant Miller!” the man yelled. Henry turned around and saw it was a major. The other soldier quickly said, “Well…gottago!” He darted off. Henry looked up at the fuming officer and did his best to mask his voice. “Y.. yes, sir?” The fiery-looking major started flailing his arms around and yelling. “Get your sorry ass up to my office! All three of you! Pronto!” He turned around and stormed through an open doorway. “Better follow,” Scott said. The three ran across the hangar. Henry tossed the Pioneer one last look before they raced up the stairs, down the catwalk and into the hallway. They got there just in time to see a door close near the far end of the dark hallway. They ran down the dark hallway, and the sounds of their footfall echoed off the walls, making it sound like an entire army was in pursuit after them. They got to where the door was and looked at it. Major Pfeuffer, the doorplate read. Executive Officer. “Oh, shit,” Henry whispered. “An XO.” “They’re the tough guys, right?” 200

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Henry nodded at Scott’s correct assumption. “They were when I was in the military, anyway. Usually.” Henry glimpsed at the door at the very end of the hall, only about ten feet away. Colonel Cummings, Base Commander. Scott looked at the door on the opposite side of the hallway from the major’s office. He began to breathe hard. “Henry!” Henry whipped around to see a third nameplate. VIP Office - Major General McGowan. He began to feel his blood boil. “The man responsible for this whole mess,” Henry breathed. Scott shuddered and tried to get a hold of himself. “W…well, let’s not keep the major waiting.” He knocked on the door. “Come in!” a voice yelled. Henry opened the door, and the three marched as smartly as possible into the office and stood in a line before the man’s desk. The officer appeared to be filling out some kind of form. Travis shifted a little and tried to relax. “Stay at attention,” the officer said, not missing a beat. Travis immediately snapped into attention. The man put his pen down and looked up at the three. “Well. So you three decided to go putzing around in the desert and not even bother to stay close to the radio, huh?” He leaped up. “Do you know what happens when a unit doesn’t respond to a query?” “Uh…the base goes to security alert,” Henry stammered. “Right!” The man threw his arms in the air. “Do you even know how much of a pain in the ass that is!? Even on a minor base, such a thing causes major heartburn to everyone. This base houses some of the most top secret shit the world has ever known! How dare you treat such responsibility so damn lightly! Gimme your book, Sergeant!” “My…” “Your damn Zen book, that you always go out to read and forget about the world and your duties with. Give it to me!” Henry fished around in his left pocket and withdrew the little green book. He handed it to the major, who snapped it from his grip. “I’m holding on to this until I see better results. God, you’ve only been here just over a week and this is the second time! One more time, and I’m putting you in front of the colonel! No…maybe I’ll let the general have a 201

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piece of you! You know we have a general here visiting, right?” “Y.. yes, sir.” “You do? And you decide to go fucking off and embarrass the shit out of me by almost putting us at security alert!? Get the hell out of my office before I shove the entire manual down your throat! Git!” He waved them off. Henry, Scott and Travis saluted and immediately scurried out of the office. Henry gingerly closed the door behind him. “God,” Henry breathed. “I haven’t ever received a dressing-down like that before.” “A fuck-up like you?” Scott grinned sheepishly. “Problems?” a man asked. The three jumped a foot in the air and looked at the man who addressed them. It was a colonel. “Uhh…sorry, sir.” Henry snapped to attention. “Hmm.” The colonel moved closer. “From what I heard, sounds like you got into some trouble with the major.” He smiled blandly. “He’s not going to make you visit me, is he, Sergeant?” “Not this time, sir.” “Glad to hear it. You had a very good record up to your transfer here. Hate to think a few incidents could blemish that record.” He leaned closer to Henry, squinting. “Something wrong with your face?” “Sir?” Scott’s heart started pounding heavily. He began feeling around for his disruptor. He noticed Travis was doing the same. “It’s awfully pale,” the colonel said. He stepped back. “Guess I’d be pale to after getting a talking-to from the major.” He laughed dryly. “Well, carry on, you three.” Henry and his two friends saluted, and the colonel returned the salute. He turned around and opened his door to his office. Henry peered through and noticed the general sitting near the colonel’s desk, looking out at him. Henry’s blood suddenly ran cold. The general was peering through squinting eyes, as if evaluating them. The door then closed. The three breathed deeply and began to relax, when suddenly the major’s door flew open. “You three still here?” “Yes, sir. The colonel was just here.” The major squinted at Henry. “What’s wrong with your voice?” 202

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Henry started to feel heat come to his cheeks. “Coming down with something, sir.” “Hmm. Okay, you three. I’m splitting you up. Ever since I got you three in the same unit, there’s been nothing but problems. Sergeant…you’re on prisoner detail. Let’s see how a few months in a dimly-lit passageway adjusts your attitude.” Prisoner? Henry looked at Scott, who was giving him an equally quizzical stare. “And you two…report to the master sergeant. He’s got new unit assignments for you. Go.” The man slammed the door shut before anyone could get a salute off. They began to walk back down the hallway. “Prisoner duty!” Henry quietly exclaimed. “I wonder…” “I was thinking the same thing. You think…” “I hope…” They continued to walk down the hall and out onto the catwalk in silence. “You think the general recognized us?” Travis finally asked. Henry shrugged. --4:59 A.M. Basil peered out of the back of the pickup. He watched as Henry and the other two ran up the stairs and into a dark passageway. He began to survey the area. Only a few soldiers were wandering around after the end of the watch rotation, shooting the breeze before they went to their next assigned area. He tried to see if anyone was watching the Pioneer. Nobody was nearby. He quietly hopped out of the camper and looked for a place to hide. Halfway down his side of the hangar, he saw a door. He quietly trotted up to it and peered inside the window set into the door. Inside was a darkened locker room. “Yes!” he hissed. He gingerly opened the door, trying to not make it squeak. Once inside, he quietly shut it. He could barely see; except for a little light getting through 203

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the small window, the locker room was pitch dark. He fished around in one of his pockets for a flashlight. Nothing. He finally came across a lighter and hoped for the best. He flicked the flint, and a small flame leaped up from the lighter. He then proceeded to find his way around the place, looking for the perfect disguise. He came up to one locker at the far end of the room, where he could try to open it without being seen. He tried the handle, and it slid up. He opened the door, and inside was a lab coat, among other things. He grabbed the coat and put it on. Feeling around the rest of the locker, he tried to find some kind of identification badge, but found nothing of use. He sighed, and hoped that nobody tried to stop him. He put his lighter away, quietly closed the locker door, and went back to the room’s entrance. He peered outside. Only a few straggling soldiers remained, standing around a coffee pot at the far corner of the hangar. The Pioneer was directly in front of him. Guess I’ll make a break for it. He opened the door briskly, as if he belonged there, and strode confidentially to the ramp leading into the shuttle. One of the guards noticed him, and Basil’s throat began to tighten. The man only smiled and waved. Basil smiled broadly and waved back. He overheard, “Man, those engineers are real work hounds!” Another soldier responds with, “Well, they’ve given that project top priority. They say it’s the biggest break we’ve had in a long time.” Basil tuned out the conversation and stopped just beneath the ramp. He looked up at the shuttle. There were only a few dents in the wings. He suspected the shielding stayed online long enough to prevent any major damage when the shuttle went careening into the woods. The electromagnetic engines, mounted between the wing and the body, also appeared to be in good condition. He quickly walked up the ramp, looking to see if anyone was coming to stop him. Nobody came. He retreated into the main passageway of the Pioneer. “Whew,” he sighed. He looked around. Panels were everywhere, with cables hanging down in several places. There were some scorch marks on the walls where fires obviously burned during the crash. He walked into the cockpit to see what blew apart in there. Inside, he saw that several panels had been removed, but the piloting controls were still intact. The navigational console looked damaged, as if something had been thrown into it, but most 204

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of it looked like it had also been repaired. There was something brown on the console face. Basil wondered what it was, but figured he did not have the time to be too curious. He headed back towards the engineering spaces. Once down in the engineering plant, he sighed deeply. The entire antimatter system appeared to have been dismantled. “This is going to take several hours just to get this thing ready to even get off the ground, let alone into space.” He sighed. “Well…might as well start with the electromagnetic plant.” He went to the master console and activated it. Quickly, the screen showed a summary of the ship’s status. Query EME, Basil typed. Starboard EME: Disabled. Port EME: Ready (100%), was the response. “Hmm.” Query S-EME. Starboard EME: Error 19–Electrical Short. “Shit.” Basil scratched his chin. If only the circuit breaker had been tripped, there was still hope. If the engine itself shorted…Query S-EMEBreaker. Starboard EME–Breaker: Open. Close S-EME-Breaker, Basil quickly typed, his palms sweating. Closed. Query S-EME. Basil crossed his fingers and pressed the Enter key. The screen didn’t respond for a few seconds. Then: Starboard EME: Ready (80%). “Yes!” Basil cheered, then suddenly went flush, hoping nobody heard him. Eighty percent? He typed at the terminal one more time. Detail SEME. Starboard EME: Status–Ready Capability–80% Last error–19 (Short) Current warnings/history: Class C Fire reported–extinguished (-20%)–07JUN08:04:03:47 Power Surge–07JUN08:04:03:39 There had been a fire in the engine, apparently caused by a massive power surge! Basil swallowed hard. At least the simulation showed that there 205

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was 80% capacity. If the fire had been self-extinguished soon enough, the situation might be better than the display showed. The only way to know was when the ship flew again. He sighed. There was nothing left to do now but try to put the MAMPS back together again. He looked at the conduits and groaned. “We might not get this done in time.” --5:06 A.M. The colonel walked back into his office and closed the door. He noticed the general had just been scrutinizing the individuals outside. “Who are they,” the general asked, turning back to the colonel’s desk. The colonel sat down in his seat. “Just kids, sir. Sergeant Miller has gotten himself into a poor crowd. Well…actually, come to think of it, they all have good records, but ever since the sergeant arrived and was put in their unit, there’s been some trouble.” “Such as?” The colonel sighed. “They screw off a bit. I think they all belong to the same religion or something, and go out into the desert to meditate or something.” He dismissed the ludicrosity with a wave of his hand. The general squinted. “Anything suspicious about them?” “Huh? Oh, no, sir. We’ve been very thorough with security checks…” “No, no, not about them, but…them. In particular.” He motioned to the door. The colonel looked shocked. “You think they’re impostors?” “Could be.” The general leaned back. “Wasn’t there a breach on the perimeter last night?” “A minor one. Occasionally, a coyote might cross the barrier, and its tail might break the beam. The system’s designed to ignore small occurrences like that, but it will still pick up someone trying to crawl underneath the beam. I know, because we’ve tested it extensively. And where there are ravines or ditches, we’ve blocked them up.” “Really.” The general breathed in and out hard. “Has anyone checked that area?” The colonel frowned. “No. But I can send someone out.” He picked up 206

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the phone and dialed someone. “Master sergeant? Yes, this is Colonel Cummings. Send out a patrol to check out zero eighteen, out by the perimeter.” He listened. “I know that, but check it anyway.” He listened some more. “Those two? No, keep them here for now.” He looked at the general. “Yeah, they got into trouble. Again. Don’t know what’s wrong. Just have them stay by the base for now. Send someone else.” The general stood up. “I’m coming with them.” “Hey, Sergeant, hold on a moment. The general’s going with them.” He listened. “Very well. Goodbye.” He hung up. “You want me to come, too?” The general shook his head no. “I’ll be fine.” He opened the door and walked out. --5:09 A.M. Basil continued his work in the engineering room. He plugged the master power cable into the collider, then plugged the secondary into the conduit that connected the electromagnetic engines. He then got out from underneath one of the large pieces of machinery and went over to a control panel, which was still caked with soot. He made one quick prayer and pressed a button. The power system hummed to life. He breathed a huge sigh of relief. Standing over the terminal again, he typed: Query MAMPS. MAMPS: Ready–Online “Good.” He typed, Query MAMPS–1 Graviton Collectors The terminal didn’t readily reply. After about fifteen seconds, it spit back: MAMPS–1 Graviton Collectors: Disabled. Error 19–Electrical Short “Shit.” “Hey! Who are you?” Basil briefly glanced over his shoulder. Behind him was a big man with a beard–about Basil’s build, maybe a little larger. “Doctor Edwards. Who are you?” “Doctor Hathaway, head research engineer for this project. I don’t know you,” the man replied. “New here. Came in from Los Alamos. Do you know a Doctor Hauschild?” 207

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“Judy Hauschild? Yeah, I’ve heard of her.” “I worked for her for several years before she…disappeared.” The man raised an eyebrow. “Disappeared?” Basil nodded and continued to work on the console. “Well, I’m here now. They told me they needed my expertise in particle physics.” “Uh, huh.” He grabbed a walkie-talkie. “I’m going to check on your story.” Basil whipped around at an incredible speed…and that was the last thing Doctor Hathaway remembered. --Henry, Scott and Travis stood around outside the main hangar, where they received their upbraiding. The rain had stopped, and they could see the sky clearing to the west. A truck pulled out of the hangar and dashed across the runway into the desert beyond. Henry looked around the area seemingly a bit confused. “Where in hell are the holding cells?” Scott shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? All I do know is I gotta check in with this master sergeant before they come looking for me.” “Ditto,” Travis said. “You gonna be okay?” Henry nodded. “Yeah. I’ll manage. You two go on.” The other two went back into the hangar while Henry walked around the outside of the hangar, looking for the ever-elusive holding cells. He turned the corner and saw a door with two guards standing outside. It appeared that the door led to a room underneath where the offices were. He walked up to them. One of the guards acknowledged his arrival. “Good morning, Sergeant.” Henry searched his brain for something to say. “Uh, any of you seen…Bill?” The first guard raised an eyebrow. “Bill? You know he doesn’t work here. He works with the patrol units.” “Yeah, I know, but I haven’t seen him there or in the barracks.” The guard shrugged. “Sorry.” Henry hummed and continued down the side of the building, somewhat 208

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apprehensive of asking what was behind that door. They didn’t ask him if he was there to relieve one of them, so he assumed that must not be the brig. He turned the next corner and saw a short, squat building, about one hundred feet away from the hangar. He walked over to it and found the door. He stepped inside. Inside was another door with a handprint scanner. Grinning broadly, he confidently stepped up and put his hand on the scanner. A light scanned his hand, then there was a beep. He heard a locking mechanism release, and Henry pulled the door open. He stepped inside only to find he was in the security control room–a bit of luck! There were various television screens on the board, showing scenes from various parts of the base. One of the cameras seemed to be trained on the door to the holding cells. Henry figured this out, because on the door in the picture, there was a sign that said, “Holding Cells.” Henry looked around the room to see if there were any cameras in here that might be connected to a monitor elsewhere. There were none. The man in there, who appeared to be of the same rank as the character Henry was supposed to be, turned in his swivel chair and looked at Henry. “Oh,” he said. “You’re supposed to be by the holding cells, dummy!” “Sorry. Thought the major meant in here watching the cells, not right by them.” Henry tried to read the name on the man’s badge. The sergeant shook his head in dismay. “Nope. Around the building. Shoo, shoo, before the major wonders where the hell you went.” Henry nodded and began to walk outside. He stopped and turned around. “Oh, Steve?” “Yeah?” “Sorry.” The man frowned. “Sorry about what?” His eyes went wide when he saw the disruptor. --5:10 A.M. Scott and Travis showed their badges to the guard. He waved them in and they went into the hangar. 209

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“So, where’s this master sergeant?” Travis asked. Scott shrugged. He carefully scanned the area near the vehicles. He saw one man standing by a truck, carrying a clipboard. “Maybe that’s him.” The man turned around to reveal the myriad of stripes on his sleeve. “Yeah, that’s gotta be him.” The two walked over to the master sergeant. “Reporting for duty, Master Sergeant,” Scott said. “Uh-huh.” The man continued to look at his clipboard. “Well, you’re not going anywhere for a while, so you may as well go back to the barracks until called for.” Scott nodded. “Understood. Hey…” he began to ask, “where did that last truck go? Never seen anyone tear out of here so fast unless it was a drill…or the real thing.” “It probably is nothing. The general wanted to go on some joy ride, I guess. He’s a general. He pretty much gets what he wants.” “General?” Scott shot Travis a worried look. “Do you know where they were going?” “Perimeter, I think.” Scott tried to look like everything was routine, but inside he could feel something squeeze on his innards. “Okay…well, I guess we’ll be on our way, Master Sergeant.” “Mmm.” He kept his nose glued to the clipboard. Scott and Travis walked away. Travis whispered to Scott, “I think we have a problem. We need to find Henry, and fast!” --5:16 A.M. “Crossing at zero eighteen,” the sergeant reported through the radio. Understood, came the reply. The truck bounced violently over the rugged terrain and pulled up along side the perimeter. The sergeant brought the truck to a stop. “Do you want out here, sir?” The general frowned. “Yes. Is there a ravine here? Or a riverbed?” “Yes, sir, but we put a concrete barrier there to prevent anyone from crawling underneath. It’s right over there.” The man pointed to a semi-wet 210

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riverbed next to one of the infrared transmitters. The general got out and looked around. The sky had cleared a bit, and the heavier rainclouds had mostly disappeared over the hills. He walked over to the small concrete dike and examined it. It was tilted inwards a little, pointing towards the base. A little water trickled through the grate in the concrete. The general looked around on the ground. Nothing. The sergeant had stepped out of the vehicle now and was looking around on the ground as well. He stopped when he saw something. “General, you should see this.” The general trotted up and looked at where the man was pointing. There, in the dirt, was a small indentation shaped like the toe of a boot. “Hmm,” the general noted. “Should I radio in a security alert?” He reached for the radio. “No, not right now. I don’t want them to make any rash moves. Yet. Give it ten minutes if nobody hears from me. I’ll take care of it. I know where to find them.” “Sir, are you sure that’s…” The general glared at the sergeant. “Don’t question me, soldier. Just get me back to the base as fast as possible.” “Yes, sir.” --5:38 A.M. After taking care of the guard watching the closed-circuit television monitors, Henry had immediately taken the phone off the hook, dialed that phone’s extension, and put it on auto-redial…in case someone could monitor that a phone was off the hook and not being used. After several minutes of ensuring his tracks were covered, he had managed to find his way to the other side of the building, where the entrance to the brig was. He walked through the first door to see an entryway similar to the one where the monitoring station was. Henry walked up to the palm reader and put his hand on the pad. The light scanned his hand and granted him access to the room beyond. He opened the door and stepped into a short passageway. Standing in front of the holding cell door were two guards. 211

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“Finally,” one of them said. “I really have to drain the tank!” “You know, you really shouldn’t be pressing your luck, Eddie,” chided the other guard. “News travels fast around here. Heard you pissed off the major…again.” “Yeah, I know.” The first guard rushed past Henry and out the door. Henry took station next to the guard. He sighed. After several minutes, he said, “So…read any good books lately?” The guy looked at Henry with a queer expression on his face. “What?” Henry grinned. “Sorry. That was a bad joke.” He cleared his throat. “So…who, exactly, are we guarding?” The man looked at Henry with amazement. “Boy, you really are out of it! They’re those people we captured on the mission. You were there! Remember?” The man turned his whole body towards Henry. He squinted at him real hard. He quickly reached up and grabbed Henry’s nose, pulling. The nose cleanly came off. “Good grief!” The man backed away and fumbled for his pistol. Henry whipped out his disruptor. “Good night!” He pulled the trigger, and spasms ran across the guard’s body. After several seconds of this freaky dance, the guard slumped to the floor. Henry grabbed the guard’s keys and unlocked the door. He stepped through the doorway. Past the main holding cell door there were several more doors lined up down a long hallway. Henry called out. “Hello?” “Down here,” came a voice from the far end of the hall. A few other voices chimed in from different cells, as well. Henry jogged down to the farthest door and tried to peer in through the small window. All he could see was one face looking back at him through a dirty pane of glass. He began to fiddle with the keys. “Are all fifty of you there?” he asked. “Forty-seven, I’m afraid, split up amongst these cells. The other three were killed in the accident.” Henry stopped looking for the key to the cell and stood straight up. “Who?” “Uh, lessee…two engineers who weren’t strapped in…I forget their names…and Ted.” 212

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Henry stumbled backwards and dropped the keys. “Oh, no!” “’Fraid so.” The person sighed heavily. “Don’t know how it happened, though. One of us must’ve seen it…probably Sam or someone else on the bridge crew.” A pause. “Hello?” “Huh?” Henry snapped back to reality. The reality of the project’s financial benefactor going out like that had completely shaken Henry up. “Oh, yeah. Hold on.” He knelt down to pick up the keys to the cells. He went through about three keys before he found the right one. The bolt slid open, and Henry pulled on the door. The man he had been talking to was on the other side. Behind him were about fifteen more people; some standing, others lying on the floor, and yet others huddled around one another, holding conversations. The man looked at Henry for a moment, not able to fully understand who he was. “Oh. Hello, Henry,” he finally said. “Couldn’t tell it was you through that dirty glass. I’m really sorry about Ted. He was a friend of yours, yes?” “He paid for the Explorer and the Pioneer, as well.” Henry’s face was downcast. “Oh!” The man hissed. Henry sighed deeply as he fiddled around for the key to the next cell. “Well, never mind that. Come on, we’ve got to get everyone out of here.” “Not so fast,” came a voice from behind. Henry froze in his tracks when he heard the sound of a bullet being chambered. Oh, shit. “Slowly, turn around.” Henry had no choice but to turn around. He did as he was told, and there, holding a small military-issue revolver, was General McGowan. Two guards flanked him, one on each side. “Toss it,” he ordered. “Toss it?” “Don’t play stupid.” He waved his pistol at him. “Your stun gun. Toss it over here. And don’t do anything you might regret.” Henry pulled out his disruptor with two fingers and gingerly tossed it in the general’s direction. “Now the keys. Come on.” Henry threw the keys at the general. He snatched them out of the air with 213

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his left hand, keeping the gun on Henry at all times. “Good lad. Wellll, Lieutenant Gusman, I see you gave yourself a demotion.” The general grinned darkly. “Back up.” He motioned Henry to move back into the cell. “Just one question, General, if I may.” “Okay,” he replied as he closed the door behind Henry and slid the bolt home. “Why?” The general peered through the small window and raised an eyebrow. “Why? Why what? Why am I locking you in here? Because you’re trespassing on government property, that’s why, and I have the authority to do so. Besides, I’m not about to let you escape again.” “That’s it exactly. It’s not like we did anyone any harm.” “That’s not the point. I have my orders, Mr. Gusman, it’s as simple as that. Reverse engineer the shuttle we have now and hopefully find the other one that got away.” He grinned again. “We’ve got our newest spy satellite scouring the countryside, looking for anything suspicious.” Behind the general, Henry just barely noticed the door at the opposite end of the hall moving, but tried not to give it away. Henry continued the conversation, to distract the general. “Didn’t you ever get the note?” “Your note you left at the hangar near Orton? Yes, I did. That’s besides the point. A good soldier follows orders.” His face took a more serious look. “I’m very sorry about that, but that’s the way it is. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt or killed. You probably noticed I had the tank aim at the engines, not the main body of the ship, and I did it with that purpose in mind. I’m sorry that your friends had to die in the accident. What was the name of their leader? Oh, yes. Ted Fleming. At least, from what we can tell, he died quickly.” The general cleared his throat and put his gun away. Pshff. Pshff. The two guards with the general collapsed to the floor. Then, a voice, quiet as a whisper and cold as ice floated down the passageway, freezing the general in his tracks. “Don’t move.” Henry bobbed his head around to see if it was who he thought it was. “Travis?” “You bastard,” growled Travis. Henry could see, even from this distance and through a grimy piece of glass, that every vein on Travis’s neck was 214

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bulging and throbbing. His teeth were clenched tightly and his eyes looked like fire. He slowly closed in on the two prostrate guards and the general, who still had his hand on the butt of his gun. “Remove…your gun…and throw it here,” Travis ordered. He sounded like he could blow at any minute. Henry looked around some more, and he saw Scott was about ten feet behind Travis, partially hiding himself on the other side of the door. The general slowly turned around and threw his gun away. “You won’t get away. In less than ten minutes, this place will be crawling with soldiers.” Travis furiously shook his head as he turned up the power setting on his weapon. The disruptor in his hand vibrated frantically up and down. Travis’s knuckles were white as he held the weapon with a death grip. “I really don’t give a shit about that right now. All I give a shit about right now is that you killed my brother and I want to see you dead, dead, dead!” With each ‘dead,’ he shook the weapon at the general. Henry yelled to Travis, his voice muffled by two inches of solid metal. “Travis! Don’t do it!” “Shut up, you!” he blasted. “This is none of your concern.” The general feebly tried to reason with the lunatic. “Listen, mister, I’m sorry about your brother. It was an accident.” “ACCIDENT!” Travis screamed. It sent the hair on the back of Henry’s neck standing straight out. “You call it a fucking accident? Was it an accident that you decided to mobilize hundreds of men to take out a peaceful mission? Was it an accident that you deliberately fired on unarmed civilians?” “Hey, now, for the record, there were only one hundred soldiers…” “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT!” he screamed again. “Now,” he seethed, “I’m going to end this…right…now!” He took aim at the general. Henry looked around to see what Scott was doing. “Scott!” he yelled. Scott was already two steps ahead of him. In an instant, Scott fired his disruptor on Travis. Travis shook a bit, his eyes wide open, staring at the general with all the hate in the world, then he collapsed to the floor. The general, seeing he had a chance, made a move for his gun, but Scott stopped him. “Ah! Don’t even think about it. I’m not gonna kill you, but I will put you out. Unlock the door, if you please.”

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XII 5:55 A.M. Henry looked outside the security building towards the hangar. One lone guard stood at a door leading into the back side of the hangar. The man stood there in a slouched position, his eyes half closed. He tried to stifle a yawn, but was unsuccessful. Henry sighed and took aim at the man. He pulled the trigger, and the man fell to the ground. He looked around again to make sure nobody saw, then let the people behind him know the way was clear. The group of people ran across the open landscape, desperately trying to get to the relative sanctuary of the hangar before they were spotted. Henry ran up to the door and pressed his hand on the palm reader. The door buzzed and Henry opened the door to the hangar. He looked inside. Nobody. And the ramp to the Pioneer was nearby. “Come on,” he whispered. “Before our time’s up!” The people filed through the door and, as quietly as possible, made their way up the ramp into the shuttle. Henry followed close behind and closed the outer airlock. Basil was right there to greet him. “What’s our status?” “We’re ready to go to Homestation. Ready to go to space? No. I’m going to need time to reassemble and double-check everything. These government employees are busy beavers! Wish they’d been like that with my tax refund.” He sighed. “That, and I’m getting errors in the graviton systems. Don’t know how long that’ll take to fix.” 216

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“Are we going to arouse too much attention if we warm up the electromags?” Basil shook his head. “Already had two visitors. A guard came in to check up, but he let me be. He probably assumed I got here early to get a fresh start on testing, so I’ll let them believe that. I also had a visit from the researcher in charge of examining the Pioneer. He’ll be sleeping for a while.” Basil grinned. “Hmm. Where is he now?” “In engineering. I’ll drop him out once we get on the runway.” “Okay.” Henry looked around. Everyone had gone into their respective cabins and closed their doors. Henry stood outside Ted’s cabin, staring at the handle. A feeling of tiredness overwhelmed him momentarily and he had to lean against the bulkhead. A woman opened her door just a few cabins down and looked outside. She saw Henry and said, “Hello. Ted’s not with us anymore.” “I know. I was told by one of the other passengers. How did it happen?” The woman looked towards the cockpit. Then she looked at the deck grating. “He was killed in the accident. He wasn’t in his restraints, trying to get to the piloting controls and regain control of the shuttle. When the Pioneer careened off of the runway and into the woods…” Henry grimaced. “God!” “Yeah. Well, he’s in a better place, I guess.” She trudged back into her cabin and closed the tiny door. Basil stood there, staring in disbelief. Henry shook his head sadly. “Well, let’s hope we can get everyone else out of here.” Basil nodded. He solemnly went to the end of the passageway and climbed down the ladder into engineering. Henry headed into the cockpit. Scott and a couple other people were in there, warming up the systems. One of the other people was Sam, Ted’s first officer. He was sitting at the piloting controls, running preflight checks. “Scott? Send a signal to the Explorer to let them know we’ll be on our way shortly.” Scott nodded, remaining bent over a console. Henry adjusted his collar nervously. “Too bad about Ted.” 217

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“Too bad?” Scott inquired. Then he remembered the incident in the holding cells–he remembered Travis’ reaction. “Oh. Right.” Henry cleared his throat. “If it weren’t for him, none of this would’ve been possible.” Scott remained bent over his console. “Sometimes, I wonder if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Henry cringed a bit at Scott’s biting remark. He cleared his throat again. “Where’s Travis?” Scott shrugged. “Maybe that cramped compartment we call a rec room.” He went over to the communications device and sent a short message to the Explorer. “Maybe you should talk to him,” he suggested as he typed. “Once we get out of here, that is.” “Probably a good idea.” He pushed the button to the intercom. “Basil, are we ready?” “Yep. Electromags only, Henry. No fancy warp tricks to escape with this time. And go easy. The starboard electromag had a fire in it, but the system isn’t showing any current errors.” “Gotcha.” Henry strapped himself in. “Okay, folks, we’re going to have to blast our way out of here. Scott…we did get the weapons working on the Pioneer, too, right?” Scott nodded. “Of course,” he said smugly. Sam reports. “Electromagnetic engines are online. We’re ready to go.” Henry nodded. “Are there any soldiers out there…coming this way?” Sam looked to his left. “Nope. There are about five or so by the coffee pot around the corner. They seemed to be engrossed in a conversation.” Scott snorted. “Basil must be right. They probably just think he’s the only one in here, and he’s doing tests.” He laughed. “God! And I thought this was supposed to be such a high security place!” “High enough. The general figured us out. We’ve only got…” Henry looked at his watch. “Two minutes, according to what the general said.” “Yeah, well, we’ll be out of here by then. They should’ve electrified the fence. That would’ve helped to stop us.” Sam shook his head no. “They can’t do that anymore. There’s been a big stink recently about it from cattle ranchers finding dead cows next to high voltage fences.” 218

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“Well…while they’re off guard, let’s get this thing moving!” Henry ordered. “One moving thing, coming up.” Sam tapped the secondary throttle and the ship began to move towards the hangar doors. “Yep, here they come. One of them is running for an alarm.” Within a few seconds, they could hear–just barely through the hull of the ship–the klaxon sound. Four of the guards had leveled their pistols at the escaping shuttle and had begun firing. Scott cursed as he banged his console. “Why don’t the shields work right?” Basil’s voice chimed in. “Something else that shorted out in the crash. We’ve only got forward shields available right now, and just barely. Something else I’ll have to fix once we get to Homestation.” The ping, ping of bullets could be faintly heard, ringing throughout the cockpit. “Scott,” Henry said, “fire the lasers.” “You got it.” He put on a small headband with an eyepiece on it and touched a control on a nearby panel. “Oookaaay…. got it!” He pushed a button. Bright laser beams shot out from under the nose of the shuttle and immediately blasted a hole in the middle of the large hangar doors. Scott aimed the laser cannon a couple more times to make the hole big enough. He then grabbed a microphone and switched on a speaker. His voice echoed through the hangar. “I’d clear out if I were you.” “Punch it,” Henry ordered. Sam pushed the master throttle all the way forward and the shuttle rocketed out through the hole. He looked over to the left. “Yeah, they know we’re here, all right.” Scott looked over Sam to see out the left window. Jeeps, soldiers and other military equipment were converging upon the runway. “Good God. There’s enough firepower out there to take out a small country, let alone stop a shuttle!” Sam grunted. “No matter. In ten seconds, we’re outta here!” As the whine of the electromagnetic engines grew louder and higher in pitch, Henry could hear the occasional loud boom of some kind of explosive round. “Well, it only took a few seconds to take you guys out the last time, and I don’t want anyone to be there again.” There was a loud explosion just 219

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behind and to the right. It rattled the ship noticeably. Henry began to feel gore rise in his throat. “Are we…” Scott looked at the status monitor. “We’re fine.” “Allmossst…. allmossst…” Sam watched the speed indicator carefully. “There!” He pulled gently back on the stick and the nose of the shuttle rose into the air. The ship gently lifted off the ground and rocketed out over the desert. Henry let out one long sigh of relief. “Thank God. Didn’t think we were going to make it.” “We still may not,” Scott warned. He pointed to his screen. “Four fighters coming up behind us. They’re launching from Area 51.” He shook his head. “Damn, it’s like those roach traps. ‘They go in, but they don’t go out.’” “Don’t be a pessimist, Scott.” Scott put the headphones on and listened to the radio traffic. “One’s thing for sure,” he said after a few seconds, “they’re not radioing for our surrender.” “Because they know we won’t.” “Yeah. Which means…” “I know, I know.” Henry sighed nervously. “Can this thing do an inside loop?” Scott turned his head and looked at Henry in disbelief. “This large flying piece of tin?” Sam interrupted. “It’s possible. I’d have to fire our thrusters. It’d be more of a flip than a loop.” Henry nodded. “Scott, can you set your firing controls to automatic?” “Huh?” Scott scanned the surface of the panel next to him. “Oh, yeah, but it’ll only track four targets at once.” “There’s four fighters out there,” Sam reminded. “Yeah, and they pack missiles.” Gulp. “Oh. Right.” “What’s their range?” “Five miles and closing, Henry,” Scott reported. Henry nodded. “Very well. Sam?” “Yep.” He pulled back on the handle and tapped one of the whitehandled thruster throttles. The shuttle immediately did a somersault and 220

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ended up upside-down. Sam then pushed the control to the left, hard, to get the plane righted again. Scott gripped the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Jesus! Ahhhh!!!” Finally, the shuttle was righted and flying in the opposite direction. “Okay, Scott,” Henry said, “your turn. Aim to disable–I’d like them to have a chance to eject, if possible.” “Joy.” He put on the headgear used for the weaponry and pushed some control buttons. “Okay, here goes. I only hope those forward shields can handle a little pounding.” “Agreed. Are they in range?” In response, the automatic firing system sent out several beams in front of the ship. A few miles in the distance, there were a couple balls of fire and debris. Scott looked through the eyepiece to get the tactical information. “Two down, two to go. Can’t tell if anyone survived or not…Missiles incoming!” The laser cannons fired again, and there was a couple smaller flashes of fire in the distance. “Uhoh,” Scott said. “What?” “We missed one, and the cannons haven’t recharged yet.” He gulped audibly. “Hope the shiel-d holds,” he said, augmenting the “d.” The missile ended up streaking right past the shuttle. The members of the bridge crew looked at each other in puzzlement. Finally, Scott exclaimed, “Of course! The only thing that would put off any appreciable amount of heat would be the engines, but we don’t have the standard jet engines on here.” “That would explain it,” said Henry. The remaining fighters rocketed right past the shuttle, the roar of their engines rattling the ship. “Looks like they’re coming around for another pass,” Scott said. He frowned as he read some more data coming through the eyepiece. “And we’ve just been hit by a radar burst.” “They’re going to use radar guided missiles this time.” “It would seem that way.” Scott watched the data. “Yeah. Great. Six of them. And we’ll only be able to take out four max before they get to us.” “Flip us around, Sam.” Sam shook his head. “I’ll try, but I don’t know if we’ll get turned around enough in time.” He began to maneuver the plane into a somersault again. 221

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Scott shook his head sadly. “We’re not going to make it around in time.” Suddenly, the crew heard several explosions. The ship shuddered, but otherwise held together. The ship continued its somersault maneuver. Henry looked confused. “Did we get hit?” Scott shook his head. “No.” “Look!” Sam yelled. Although the view was upside down, they could see the Explorer moving towards the attacking fighters. The remains of the fireballs caused by the missiles trailed behind it. Sam leveled out the shuttle. Henry now looked concerned. “Don’t they have the same weapon system we do?” Scott nodded dumbfoundedly. “Yeah. They must’ve taken a couple hits for us. They do have their shields working properly.” A radio message blared over the cabin speakers. “Explorer to Pioneer, come in.” Scott grabbed the mic. “Who is this?” “It’s me, Harry. Lex and Gary are in here with me. Lex is the one piloting.” Henry hummed in curiosity. “Would explain the daredevil maneuver.” Scott answered back. “Are you guys all right?” “Yeah, we’re fine.” The Explorer moved towards the Pioneer, just as the jets screamed past them. “Get in as close as possible. We’re going to try to carry you within our warp bubble.” “Oh, God!” Sam fretted. The Explorer made a wide turn and pulled up alongside the shuttle, only fifty feet to the left and above. Sam looked up at the giant metal machine above him. “Oh, God!” “We’d better hurry,” Scott warned as he checked the monitor. “They’re coming around again. In firing range in six seconds.” Harry sent a message to the Pioneer. “Okay, move in underneath us. We’ll move to be over you, so we’ll end up meeting in the middle.” Silence. “I mean that figuratively.” Scott turned pale. Henry nodded to Sam. “Go ahead.” “We’ve got missiles!” Scott announced. “Ten seconds to impact!” Sam pushed the control stick to the left, and the shuttle gently glided to the left. Within only a matter of a few seconds, the Explorer was directly 222

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overhead, its shadow dimming the ambient light in the cockpit. “Four seconds!” “Hang on,” Harry warned. In an instant, blue flames danced around the two shuttles, and then they disappeared into the distance. --Air Ops. The general sat in the darkened control center, watching and listening to the activity. Upon the Pioneer blasting a hole in the side of the research hangar, the pilots at “ready 5” were already heading out onto the runway. The general was very pleased with the quick response the flyboys had given. He was also glad he had ground troops ready for the shuttle should it blast its way out of the hangar, which it did. He was not pleased, though, that the ground troops failed to stop the shuttle. Now there was only one alternative left, and the general was not pleased to have to do it. The general sighed deeply. His orders were to reverse engineer the shuttle. But they were only able to get a handful of information before gross incompetence–probably due from complacency–set in. And he shouldn’t have been so cocky thinking that he would be able to handle fifty-odd people with only two guards and himself. No matter how this event transpired, he would probably have to hand in his resignation, which gave him pause–how did he want this event to transpire? “Closing in…firing range in five seconds,” came a report. The tech sergeant at the station replied his acknowledgement. The orders given to those fighters were very clear, and the general had not wanted it to come to that. He turned his head slightly and eyed the major sitting nearby, intently watching the activity like a drooling dog. He turned away, feeling slightly disgusted, wondering how such an atypical and apparently unstable human being could’ve ended up as an officer in the armed forces. Only a heartless monster would be enjoying what was going on; and yet it had to be done. There was the call of duty, and the knowledge that what they were doin–what he had to do–was for the good of his country. It always seemed to reduce the unpleasantness of what had to be done. For some reason, now it didn’t help as much. His orders were very clear, 223

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too, but he did not like them anymore. But, for a soldier, it was not a matter of ‘like.’ You did what you were told, as long as it was in the confines of the law. And when these escapees were a legitimate cause for concern, he would’ve agreed. But the letter he had read stuck in the back of his mind, and he really had to wonder if maybe–just maybe–his young lieutenant back in Washington had more of a clue than he, himself, did. That was why the younger officers were always looked upon as the future. And then there was that painting, and his dream. The coincidence was too much to ignore. Perhaps he had allowed them to escape, subconsciously? Only a shrink would help him answer that question. The general sighed deeply, and he heard his sigh echo just slightly to his other side. He looked, and he saw the same pensive expression on the colonel that he had. “Sir,” one of the young airmen announced, “a second shuttle has just entered the area and is attacking our fighters!” The major paced a bit and ran his hands through his shock red hair. “Okay, okay, tell the fighters to give it everything they’ve got. We cannot let them get away!” The general sat there, thinking that, yes, in reality, if these people were a threat–such as spies or terrorists–he definitely couldn’t let them get away. But he had read files on all of them. Excluding Henry and a couple other people in the group who were all discharged honorably from the service, they all spent their lives as civilians–law abiding civilians–who decided to give up all their comforts of life to spread their names among the stars. The stars. The general sighed again. “Sir, the strike wing is almost out of ammo,” the airman reported. “Send out a relief!” the major ordered. The master sergeant chimed in. “Will they get there in time?” “The Pioneer isn’t going anywhere, Master Sergeant. Their fancy engines are out of commission, and I don’t think they were able to get the whole thing repaired in only a few hours. Airman…” “Already dispatched, sir. Oh! Sir!” “What is it now, airman?” the major said, exasperated. The airman cranked up the sound to the speaker. “Fifty-one, do you copy?” The airman replied. “Copy, please report for the major.” 224

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“Fifty-one, it looks like the two shuttles are going to piggyback.” The major immediately understood what was about to happen. “Don’t let them get away!” The major’s exclamation was apparently loud enough to be heard through the sergeant’s microphone. “We won’t sir. Standby…fire!” The sound of rockets launching roared over the speaker. The general leaned forward, intent on hearing the result. Seconds went by like hours. “Well!?” “Sorry, 51, they managed to disappear before the missiles could impact.” “Damn it!” The major swung around and sucker-punched the coffee cup sitting on one of the consoles. Fortunately, the cup was empty, but it still shattered once it hit a wall. The general glared at the major, who immediately began to go white. “T–Tell them to return to base.” The major motioned to the airman, who responded in kind. He stammered, then darted out of the control center, a shaft of light quickly piercing the near darkness of the room briefly, then it was gone. The general turned to the crew in the control center. “Please leave, soldiers. The colonel and I must discuss something in private.” The master sergeant balked. “Who will…” The general cut him off. “We’ll take care of radio traffic, Master Sergeant. Shoo.” “Yes, sir.” He turned to the crew. “You heard the general! Vamoose! Let’s go!” He hurried the crew out and followed close behind. The daylight flashed in again, and was gone just as quickly once everyone had left. In silence the two sat, watching the monitors flash and blink before them. The colonel finally broke the silence with the anticipated statement that was on both their minds. “They’re going to fry us, you know.” The general nodded. “Yes they are.” He sighed, and wondered if it would’ve really mattered had they succeeded or not. To him, anyway. He looked back in his memory to the first day, in his Washington office, when the report had been handed to him about an unauthorized atomic explosion in the Nevada desert. His cause had reason then. The general turned to the 225

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colonel. “Where are those three bodies?” “In the freezer, sir. What did you have in mind?” --Homestation. Twenty minutes later. The Pioneer bounced as it touched ground. It slowed as it headed to a small building at the end of the dusty dirt landing strip, and eventually stopped right next to it. Henry unstrapped himself from the chair and left the bridge, heading for the airlock. He activated it. The door swung open and the ladder extended. He stood at the top of the ladder, tapping his foot impatiently. It finally extended fully. He carefully made it down the ramp and to the ground below. Sarah ran up from behind and immediately tackled him. “Thank God you’re safe!” she said, burying her face in his chest. Henry sighed. “I have to admit, it was close.” The two embraced for a while. Henry saw the Explorer taxi down the landing strip, kicking up dust in the morning desert air. People started emerging from the building, milling around, waiting for the ship to stop so they could board. Henry backed away. “The warp engine on the Pioneer is severely damaged. Torn apart, actually. Basil thinks the government engineers did it, but I imagine the crew in engineering did it to ensure that the government couldn’t figure out what went where. Basil’s working on it.” “Is everyone all right?” she asked. Henry frowned, not knowing exactly what to say. “Ted’s dead,” he squarely said. Sarah’s mouth hung open. “Oh…my God. No…” Henry nodded, his face downcast. “Shame. If it wasn’t for him…” He sighed. “I should see what Basil’s prognosis is for the Pioneer. Time is of the essence. We need to get out of here before we’re found.” Sarah nodded. “I’ll go and direct the operations by the Explorer.” She gave him a quick kiss and ran off to the other shuttle. Henry climbed back up the ladder into the Pioneer. He made his way to engineering. Basil was in there, of course, underneath the main antimatter generator. Henry leaned up against a control panel, staring down at the pair of legs sticking out from under the generator. The sounds of tinkering and the 226

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occasional curse bounced and echoed throughout the cramped compartment. Otherwise the compartment was quiet. There was a sudden clang. “Damn!” “Something wrong, Basil?” Basil’s sigh rolled out from underneath the bulky piece of equipment. “Yeah. There was a small fire that fried some of the graviton controls good. I could fix it, but with the government on our tails, that may not be such a good idea to do now. They’ll find this place if we stay here too long. We will have to gather the components to repair this mess while we’re in space…which will require a space walk, probably, just to get to those particular cargo compartments.” Henry nodded solemnly. “Suggestions?” Basil scooted out from underneath the collider. “Yeah. Judy told me she modified the Explorer’s warp bubble so that it could hold two ships for high speeds…if they’re close together. It’ll take some precision flying, but we can fit the Pioneer underneath the Explorer, just like we did during our escape.” Henry frowned in thought. “How about this: We’ve got grapples in some of the cargo bays, right?” “Yeah.” Basil squinted. “Hmm. Why not use the grapples to latch the two ships together?” Basil raised an eyebrow. “Think it’ll work?” Henry shrugged. “Should. It’ll be tricky. We have a camera in both shuttles in their cargo bays. We’ll just use them to navigate the two ships together. We’ll have to strap the satellites in, though, which will require a space walk to get them released when we deploy them. For now, anyway.” Basil stood up and brushed himself off. “Well, anyway, I can’t get the graviton systems to work right for now. Probably won’t be able to for a while. I’ve taken the MAMPS completely offline so that nothing else blows up, which means this ship will have no real shielding or the gravitational improvements that Judy cooked up. Only thing really running right are the electromagnetic engines and the recycling units. Once we get into space, I’ll try some more.” “I need you on the Explorer, Basil. Mike was the man in charge back here when this ship was being built, anyway.” Basil nodded. “You’re probably right.” He sighed. “Damn, I can be such 227

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a micromanager.” He grinned broadly. Henry chuckled. “You’ll do fine.” Static blared through the cabin speaker. Then, “Henry? We’re ready to go.” “Be right up!” he answered back. Henry looked at Basil. “You coming?” Basil nodded. “Once I give Mike the rundown.” “Rundown on what?” Mike’s boots clanked on the rungs of the ladder as he climbed down. He stepped off the ladder and stood there, his huge arms folded across his chest. “Did anyone ever tell you that you look like a lumberjack?” Basil commented, smiling. “All the time. Rundown on what?” Henry nodded and excused himself. “Gotta go. Basil, don’t be long.” The others nodded. Henry climbed up the ladder, as Basil’s explanation of the equipment malfunctions reverberated through the ladderwell. He climbed out through the top, and walked to the cockpit. The door quietly slid open. Sam was sitting in the captain’s chair, with new faces at the pilot and copilot’s stations. He swiveled around and acknowledged Henry’s arrival. “You and Basil better get going, or we’ll end up taking you with us.” He grinned. Henry nodded. “How’s the crew doing?” Sam’s face became a bit more serious. “Well,” he said in a quiet tone, “if Ted were still here, there’d be no problem flying this thing. Unfortunately, I have to completely train a new pilot from scratch. Fred?” The pilot waved absentmindedly as he continued to go through his checklist. Sam nodded. “For takeoff, though, I’ll be at the helm. Other than that, everything’s fine. What’s the story with the warp drive?” “Grim,” Henry replied. “Basil’s giving Mike the rundown on what’s wrong and how to fix it. Several control circuits are fried, and this ship would blow up if we tried running in warp right now. So you don’t have full shields, nor the artificial gravity device Judy finished installing.” Henry shrugged. “So you’re going to have to station yourself like we did on the way here: underneath the Explorer.” 228

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Sam’s mouth hung open. Henry continued. “The Explorer and the Pioneer will have to hitch together with the grappling hooks in the outer cargo bays. We’ll have to leave the front landing gears out for something to grapple on to. It’s gonna be weird. We’ll be connected nose-to-tail.” Sam shook his head in dismay. “I don’t like it.” “We don’t have much of a choice, I’m afraid,” Henry responded. “It’s either that, or leave you behind and destroy the Pioneer, so that the government doesn’t get their hands on it.” Sam leaned his head back and sighed. “God, why always the hard decisions?” He sighed again. “Mind if I talk to the passengers and crew about it?” Henry shrugged. “Shouldn’t be a problem. But make it quick. Al tells me the spysat will be overhead almost any minute, then we’re screwed.” Sam turned his chair back to the front. “Are all checks done?” “Almost,” the pilot responded. “We’re just running checks on the interstellar drive.” “Don’t bother, it’s out of commission,” Sam replied. “Oh.” The man put his clipboard down. “Then I guess we’re done.” Sam pushed the button on the intercom. “Okay, everyone, listen up. We have no warp drive, so if we’re going to tag along with the Explorer, we will have to hook up with it and share its warp bubble. It can be done, but there’s an element of risk. We’ll be hooked up belly-to-belly, nose-to-tail.” “Kinda like 69ing?” the copilot asked with a smirk. Sam turned a light shade of red. “Uh, yeah, something like that. We have to make a decision within the next few minutes. Either we go…and even if everything was working, there’s always an element of risk anyway…or we stay, in which case we have to destroy the Pioneer. Let me know your decisions in five minutes.” The pilot turned around. “That’s a lot of money poured down the toilet! And this ship’s in better condition than the Explorer! No offense, Henry, but that shuttle looks like it could fall apart in an instant. It’s all patchwork!” Henry nodded. “It’s been through a lot and is still in one piece. It’ll get us to wherever we need to go. This ship has no warp drive, and we have no time

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to get it fixed.” He sighed. “I’ve got to get to the Explorer. Let me know everyone’s decision, Sam.” Sam nodded. Henry walked out of the cockpit and out of the shuttle. He headed towards the Explorer, the wind whipping across the wide open airfield with fury. Dust flew up in front of him, obscuring his vision, and he had to keep his hand in front of his face. Eventually, he made it into the Explorer and into the cockpit. He flopped down into the captain’s chair and pondered the day’s events. Scott was there, busy listening to radio traffic. Lex was also there, going over the last few checks. Lex turned to Henry. “Something wrong?” Henry sighed deeply. “We may have to scrap the Pioneer. We will have to do a risky maneuver to take the Pioneer with us. They have no warp drive.” Lex nodded. “I knew they had no warp drive, but I didn’t know that we’d have to do a risky maneuver. What, exactly, are we doing?” Henry explained the entire procedure to Lex. Lex shrugged it off. “No problem. All they have to do is sit still and I’ll do the work.” “The problem is will the landing struts or the grapples break off if something goes wrong. If it’s the struts, the ship’s pretty much stranded in space, unless they want to do a crash landing.” “Oh. I’ll be careful, then.” He grinned and turned back to the controls, doing his final checks. “I feel reassured already,” Scott distantly mumbled. He continued listening to something through the headset. “Oh!” he finally exclaimed. “Al’s on the air, Henry.” “Put him on.” Al’s voice came through the cabin speakers. “Henry? Spysat 13 is almost at zenith. You’ve got five minutes to get off the ground or else.” “We’ve got a problem with the Pioneer. They may not be coming.” “Oh, that’s not good. You plan on scuttling it?” “Yeah, if we have to.” “Not here. An open dirt airfield this big is going to be suspicious enough without a flaming wreck nearby.” 230

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“Won’t have to worry about it,” Sam’s voice broke in. “We’re going.” Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, then,” Henry stated. “Final checks, Lex?” “Ready.” He stowed his checklist in a nearby storage bin. “Ready, Pioneer?” “As ready as we’re going to be.” Al’s voice blared over the cabin speakers. “Hold on a minute, guys…we may have a problem.” “Such as?” Scott asked. “I’ve got a plane on radar heading this way. A big one!” Henry leaped up, a look of dread on his face. “How close?” “Almost on top of us,” came the reply. The bridge crew went silent, listening. The sound of electronics permeated the room…and just barely audible was the sound of propellers. “Get going! Go! Go!” “Too late.” Lex pointed out to the other end of the runway, where a military cargo plane was beginning to land. It blocked any escape. “Shit.” Henry fell back in his chair and sighed resignedly. “All that for nothing.” Scott squinted at the oncoming plane. “That’s kind of odd.” “What,” Henry tiredly asked. “You’d think that if they were to bring a strike force, they’d have more air power. Al?” “Nope, that’s the only thing I see right now,” was the reply. Henry frowned. “I’m going out there.” Everyone turned and looked at Henry, queerly. “You sure?” Scott asked. “I can just power up the lasers and hold them at bay, if I have to.” Henry indicated negative. Something seemed very awry to him. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He got up and walked out the door. It quietly closed behind him. Henry opened the airlock and activated the ladder, which slowly extended beneath him. He stepped out into the blowing wind. He put one hand in front of his eyes to protect them from blowing dust, the other to hold on to the ladder, and he climbed down. He looked towards the cargo plane, 231

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which was just slowing down. He could tell that there were two people in the cockpit, and who knew what–or, more importantly, who–else in the belly of that beast. He walked towards the nose of the Explorer, and noticed that one of the faces in the cargo plane’s cockpit window had disappeared. He looked up to the blue, cloudless sky, then up to Scott, who was staring down at him. Scott shrugged, understanding what Henry must be thinking, but not knowing the answer. The spy satellite had probably already reached its zenith by now, so the only thing Henry was left to think of was that this was a stall tactic. But then, if the military already knew where they were, why didn’t they bring a whole lot of firepower? Henry stomach tightened, as he could only imagine what could happen next. Suddenly, the hatch of the cargo plane opened with a high-pitched hum, and it made Henry jump. Slowly, the ramp lowered, then finally touched ground. Henry half expected a hundred shock troops to come pouring out of the belly of the plane, but nothing happened. He heard an occasional metallic bang from within, however, and he couldn’t help but wonder. Then he saw a person walking down the ramp, wearing a uniform. Henry squinted, trying to figure out who it was, but Scott, who had a better vantage point–and a pair of binoculars–immediately saw who it was, and let out a shout. It only took Henry a second, though, to figure out who it was. He suddenly felt unearthly cold, and the blood pounded in his ears as he slowly backed away, back towards the security of the shuttle. The general looked around and surveyed the surroundings. He immediately noticed the laser turrets on the Explorer turn towards him, then a loud voice boomed from the shuttle. “Stay where you are, General,” warned Scott. The general raised his arms to show he meant no harm. He motioned to someone inside the cargo plane. Within only a matter of seconds, a colonel came down the ramp, pushing a coffin on a large gurney. “What the hell is that?” Henry quietly said to himself. Scott peeked his head out of the shuttle. “What the hell is going on here?” Scott frowned and looked extremely concerned. Henry shrugged in confusion. “Well,” Scott continued, “if he tries something funny, we’ll blast him and his plane to bits.” Henry squinted as the general and the colonel went back into the plane, 232

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then returned with two more coffins. The general also had something flat and rectangular tucked under his arm. Suddenly, a very unusual thought entered Henry’s brain. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Get Travis.” “What?” Scott looked shocked. “Travis will tear him apart!” Henry sighed, sounding slightly flustered. “Just get him. And tell him to keep cool.” Scott shrugged and went back into the shuttle. Henry watched the two men, standing next to the three coffins. They stood there, quietly talking to themselves. Henry could see that, having been in the military himself, they were standing at parade rest–a formal way of standing “relaxed.” This puzzled him completely. Scott and Travis rumbled down the ladder and out onto the dirt runway. Travis squinted maliciously at the general. “What does he want?” “I don’t know, but I think I have a clue. Come.” Henry began to walk towards the general and his attaché, but Scott grabbed an arm and stopped him. “It’s a trap. I can sense it.” “What good would that do? If he really wanted us,” Henry left out a word,“…he would’ve sent massive forces here instead of just him, a colonel, and three coffins. Think about that for a minute.” Henry pulled himself away and walked towards the general. Scott hesitated, pondering what Henry said. Suddenly, it began to dawn on him, as well as Travis. They looked at each other with amazement: both at the audacity and the apparent honor of the man under the tail of the giant cargo plane. They trotted off after Henry. In less than a minute, they were standing in front of the two military officers and their cargo. The colonel snapped to attention while the general took a normal, more casual stance. “You had a lot of guts to do what you did.” Henry eyed the general warily. “I could say the same.” Scott shifted around, then finally blurted, “Okay, what’s the game you’re trying to play?” The general grinned. “No games.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I know what I’m going to say is not going to make things any better, but I feel I should explain myself. I told you I had orders I had to fulfill. You, having been in the military, should understand that.” 233

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Henry frowned. “Except when they’re morally wrong.” The general raised an eyebrow. “Morally wrong?” He grinned again. “I won’t debate you there. There is no point, as one’s definitions of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ vary from person to person. Initially, everyone honestly thought we were dealing with terrorists until we were able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The orders, however, stayed the same, but with a twist. I was to reverse engineer your shuttle. But after a while, I began to question those orders–to myself–and when you had successfully escaped, I had seen an out. Sure, the satellite would’ve picked you up by now.” The general looked skyward. Henry’s blood ran cold. He remembered the satellite. The spysat would be just overhead by now, and they were still out in the open. And now Homestation was exposed. So this was a trick! Henry began to move… “Relax,” the general soothed. “It’s…um…how should I say it? It’s having technical difficulties right now. Solar flare interfering with its circuitry.” He grinned. “I think that will work. But it won’t work for long.” “So how did you figure out where we were, then?” Scott asked, folding his arms. The general turned to Henry. “Having been in the Navy, Henry, I’d figured you would’ve understood the concept of ‘dead reckoning.’ You went straight to this location. It only took us to fly this way to know where to go.” Henry felt the heat rise to his face. They remembered to throw the scent when they did their experiment late May, thus confusing the two fighters that were sent to intercept them. How could he have forgotten to do the same this time? He glanced quickly at Scott, who seemed to be returning an odd expression–it was a mix of judgment–since Henry forgot to do what he should have–and embarrassment, considering that he, too, also forgot. The general continued. “I hope that, considering you could’ve had more…visitors than us, you’ll be able to trust me enough to finish listening to what I have to say.” Henry looked at the coffins. He motioned to them. “These are the people that died” The general nodded solemnly. “I know this may not mean much to you,” he glanced towards Travis, who was still standing there, just on the edge of 234

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lashing out, “…but I did not intend for anyone to be killed. It’s a sorry thing that it did happen. That’s why I went out of my way to bring the bodies back. I figured it was the only proper thing to do. Besides,” the general smiled broadly, “when you’ve lost the war, it is customary for good soldiers to return the casualties to the other side. And anything I do now will probably end up in me having to hand in my resignation, anyway.” Henry nodded, understanding what he meant. As heartened as he might be for this honorable act, he was still upset about the whole incident. But, unfortunately, the general had been right about following orders. The officer had been caught between a rock and a hard place. He could tell he was sincere about not wanting anyone to have been hurt. On the other hand, if he did just let the colonists go, it could have been disastrous for him–careerwise or worse. During their escape–both times–the general could’ve easily killed everyone and still been able to put the technology back together. Nonetheless, people had died, and now there was blood between them. No matter the deed, there would always be that. Henry could forgive, but he was not so sure about Travis, who lost his brother in the incident. The best thing to do was to be gracious about the general’s retribution and just leave. Somehow, he knew the general understood the same thing. “General,” Henry said, “I appreciate your returning our dead to us. I hope you understand when I say it would be best if you left now.” “I do.” The general motioned to the colonel to head back into the cargo plane and get ready for takeoff. The colonel saluted and disappeared up the ramp into the belly of the plane. The general began up the ramp, but stopped to say a few last things. “Mr. Gusman…I just have a couple things I wanted to tell you–in private, if possible.” Henry looked at Scott and Travis, who returned skeptical glances. “There’s no secrets between us, General.” “Very well. I just wanted to tell you that I envy you greatly, and I wish you luck. I hope you find someplace out there suitable for you.” He sighed. “If, for some reason, you fail, let me know and I’ll see if there’s something I can do to return you and your crew to society, if I still curry some favor with my superiors. Definitely no guarantees, though, considering. Perhaps, if you’re willing, the technology on your shuttles can be reproduced enough to make it more effective. But I’ll leave that up to you.” 235

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Henry furrowed his brow. Interesting proposal, and rather brash that he would ask such a thing after everything that had happened, but Henry did hint at the same in the note he left at Orton. “I’d have to think about it and discuss it with my people.” The general smiled. “Very well. If your people do agree, just send a onesecond tone of 120 cycles over our standard frequency.” He handed Henry a small slip of paper with the frequency written on it. “I’ll know it’s you. If not…that is just as well. I know it’s an awkward thing to ask.” “But it makes sense. If only we had been asked to begin with…” The general nodded. “I agree. But your…experiment…got certain people zealous. The President honestly thought it was a terrorist act. Once we knew what it was we were dealing with…well, the damage had already been done, and my superiors had two primary fears. One, that you would be further reckless with the technology, and two, that we could not afford someone else getting their hands on this technology. Essentially, we wanted it first. That’s the game we play.” He sighed. “I hope that explains why I was given those orders.” “It does. Completely.” “There’s one last thing.” The general pulled the package out from underneath his arm. Up to this point, Henry had completely forgotten about it. Now his curiosity had been piqued. “And that is?” “Part of the reason why I wanted to talk to you in private, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. I couldn’t let anyone else see this, or else my position could’ve been compromised, and we may not be having this jolly little chat right now. You all may even still be incarcerated, under a different commander.” Henry raised an eyebrow. His curiosity was now burning. What could be in a parcel that could’ve caused so much damage? The general finally decided the time had come to reveal his little secret. He pulled off the cover. “Jesus!” Scott almost fell backwards. “It’s–” Travis simply stood there, completely confused. Henry stood there, dumbfounded. It was Harry’s The Gift. That’s supposed to be in the cargo hold! he thought to himself, stunned. 236

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“Where…where did you get that?” “You left it behind in the hangar. That, and a very eerie picture of a tank.” “I didn’t…” He glanced back at the shuttle. He could’ve sworn he saw Harry standing in the cockpit, looking out at them, smirking; but at this distance, it was too difficult to tell. He turned back to the general. “How could this have caused so much trouble?” “One, that I bothered to keep it for so long. It’s been hanging in my quarters back at Area 51 since I got there. Two, that I saw the same thing in this painting.” Henry felt himself go numb. “I realized, once your first ship escaped and the Pioneer had been disabled, exactly the implications of what was going on. Nobody else knows about this, not even the colonel, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. Right now, I will probably be forced into resignation for incompetence. Should this little secret get out–or have gotten out–I could’ve been…well, it could’ve been worse. There would’ve been enough evidence for my superiors to take more drastic action. You see, when I saw this painting, my judgment had been compromised, and I had a conflict of interest. I could’ve continued to follow my duty to my country, but it would’ve been at loggerheads with my duty to God. So I ask one last question, one last favor.” He paused. “That is?” “Mind if I keep this? I’ve got a good place to keep it at home. It’ll be a reminder to me.” “Uh…” He was about to protest. After all, he bought the painting for over a hundred dollars…but then he got the distinct feeling the painting was left there for a reason. If Harry, as Henry suspected, unloaded and left that painting in Orton on purpose, it could’ve been the one thing that may have saved them all. Any way he looked at it, Harry intended for the general to have it. “Yes,” Henry finally responded. “Go right ahead.” “Thank you.” He covered up the painting once more. “I think that should be it, then.” “All right. Farewell, General.” “Farewell, and good luck.” The general silently walked into the cargo plane, carrying his painting. The rear cargo door lifted up with a mechanical buzz, until it closed with a bang. The propellers picked up speed and blew 237

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more dust around. Henry and the others took it as a clue to back away from the plane as it made its turn and began to taxi down the dirt runway. As the plane lifted off into the cloudless sky, the three returned to the coffins and began to wheel them towards the shuttles. --It felt very odd being out there with the general. He had explained everything succinctly and logically, and Henry had relayed the general’s proposal to the rest of the passengers. A few were outraged, but most found it almost amusing that the general would even think of making such a proposal after all that had happened. However, few felt that the proposal wasn’t without merit. Should the explorers not find a planet to colonize, it only made sense to turn the technology over to a government that had the resources to go further with the idea. One person had even suggested that they do that now, but that had not been welcomed very well by the others. Another even had threatened the poor man with a certain physical act that would prove impossible to perform. Surprisingly, Travis had said the proposal had merit, but he could not go along with it in good conscience. Perhaps, after time, he might. Hopefully, though, it would never come to that. And the painting–that was the icing on the cake. Henry thought about confronting Harry about it, but then realized that there would be no point in it. He had to explain the significance of the painting to Travis, who didn’t seem to care one way or the other. He was still dealing with emotions from his brother’s death. Scott shook his head about the painting the rest of the time they were on the ground, and would continue to do so for a while to come. The explorers had just finished burying their dead. The general conveniently left three American flags, one in each coffin, as a final gesture of goodwill, and a statement that they had died as heroes for a cause they believed in. He had written in a small memo, attached to one of the flags, that those were the ideals this country had been founded on, and they should be duly honored for it. The ceremony had been simple but profound. The people had left the graves and were now making final preparations for takeoff. Travis was the last to be outside, staring darkly at the grave of his brother. Just after 238

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the ceremony, Henry asked for a vote on the general’s proposal. Henry sat in the captain’s chair of the Explorer, watching as everyone made their final checks. Lex sat at his station, eagerly going through the preflight checklist. Scott was jumping from station to station, ensuring that all his electronic and computing handiwork was fully functional, while occasionally checking to make sure the navigation systems were properly calibrated. Henry mulled over in his mind the general’s proposal, and what the explorers had told him when he asked for a vote. The choice was solely his, and they would support whatever decision he had made. Scott fell into his seat at the navigation console and strapped himself in, still shaking his head and mumbling about the painting. He checked a few readouts, then said, “We’re ready to go, Henry.” Henry nodded thoughtfully. “Basil?” Basil’s voice came over the speaker. “The MAMPS is warming up. The electromags are fully functional. The life support systems are purring like kittens. I just have absolutely no clue what the hell we’re waiting for.” What they’re waiting for. Henry was still thinking about that. For all he knew, he may never see Earth again. He had to say his silent goodbyes to the world he knew for over three and a half decades. And there was also one last task to do. “Scott, signal the Pioneer for takeoff. Lex…let’s go.” “Right on!” Lex taxied the shuttle out onto the runway and gave the secondary throttle one large push. The ship began to rocket down the runway, and in only a matter of seconds, it lifted into the air. Henry watched as the land disappeared from sight. A small cloud was on the horizon, far to the left, just barely visible through the cockpit windows. Henry sighed and looked over at Scott, who was already staring back at him. “You sure?” Scott asked one last time. Henry nodded. “Just in case.” Scott shrugged. He reached over to the communications panel and tuned it to the proper frequency. He held down the button for one second, then let it go.

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THE VOYAGE XIII June 11. 7:13 A.M. “We are almost in orbit,” Travis noted. “Good,” Henry stated. “How’s the Pioneer?” Scott talked into the headset and then listened. He finally replied, “They’re as ready as they’re going to be. They’re right behind us, so they should be in position in about sixteen minutes.” Henry nodded. “Okay. Lex, you ready?” “Uh, huh.” Lex continued to look out the forward window, trying not to show any stress on his face. In spite of Lex’s cocky confidence, Henry knew all too well that he was feeling the pressure…as was everyone. Henry raised his voice over the general din of the bridge crew. “Okay, folks, let’s do our final checks before we…before we go.” Henry quickly took a reality check. Scott turned to Henry, a whimsical look in his face. “Nervous?” Henry squirmed a little in the hard captain’s chair. “A little. I’m just hoping we don’t get a repeat performance of our…little test flight from late May.” He grabbed a preflight checklist and began to go through the steps. Scott began to get noticeably uncomfortable. “I second that.” He fiddled with the cord to his headphones and inadvertently pulled the plug out of the communication console. “Damn.” He fumbled for the plug and inserted it back into the jack. “Guess I should see how the Pioneer is coming along.” 240

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He switched on the console. “Explorer to Pioneer.” “Go ahead,” crackled a voice over the speaker. “How’s it coming?” “We’re right behind you and should be ready to hook up in about thirteen minutes. We’ve got some people outside right now strapping in the satellite. Are you almost ready?” “Uh…yeah,” Scott replied with some trepidation. “I do have some news for you, though…” Scott frowned a bit, pondering what kind of news they could have this early into their venture, and whether it was good or bad. “Go ahead.” “Mike says he can probably get the interstellar drive going in about five days.” Henry looked up from his checklist. “Five days?” he parroted. “How long will it take for us to get to Alpha Centauri?” “Uhh…” Scott turned to the navigation computer and looked up the plotted course. “A little over nine days. At the fastest speed we can attain, nine days, one hour, and ten minutes, give or take ten minutes.” “Ten minutes…just long enough for us to fly into the star.” Lex absentmindedly stated. Scott reached over and whacked Lex in the back of the head. “Jesus, Lex!” Lex winced and nursed the backside of his head. “Sorry! Just trying to be funny! Y’know, break the tension.” Henry frowned. “Not something to joke about. But the thought is appreciated.” He mumbled, “I guess.” Lex grunted and continued guiding the shuttle to its rendezvous point. Scott turned back to the navigation computer. “Hey Sam? We got about nine days and one hour to Alpha Centauri.” “Understood,” came the reply. “Perhaps then we can make sure all our systems are running right.” “Gotcha. Sam, we’re going to leave this channel open during the procedure, okay? Just follow along.” “Understood.” Lex turned his head a bit, his face looking as if he just thought of something. He reached over and tapped Scott on the shoulder. 241

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“What?” Lex made a swiping motion across his throat and pointed to the communications equipment. “Oh.” Scott flipped a switch. “Okay, the microphone’s off, but be quick.” “I just thought of something…only our warp engines work, right?” “Yeah…what’s your point?” “Well, if we’re going to have the Pioneer attached to us, that added mass to the ship will cause us to spin in space, won’t it? I mean, the vector of the force of propulsion will not go through the center of gravity of the combination of both ships.” Henry kept his head bent over his checklist, but chimed in with an answer. “The interstellar drive is not a traditional means of propulsion, remember? There is no ‘force’ per se, since the only thing that will really be moving is the pocket of space that we’re in, not the ships. Relatively speaking, the ships are stationary. The only reason we’re clamping together is to prevent any drift between the two ships. If we were to drift apart, the Pioneer would fall out of the warp field and we’d lose them. Then we’d have to really hope that Mike can fix their warp drive. Otherwise…” Henry shuddered a bit. Otherwise, we would never find them again, he thought to himself. He dared not say it aloud, though…although he could tell by the looks on everyone’s faces that they all understood the consequences. “I see your point,” Lex quietly stated. Scott turned back to the communications equipment and turned the mic back on. Nobody spoke for the next ten or so minutes, except the occasional report regarding preflight preparations and systems checks between the two shuttles. Henry sat at his station, taking the reports as they came…and then, just briefly, like a flash of light, he stopped and looked out the front window at the inky black void, bespeckled with shining points of light. A sudden feeling overwhelmed him. He remembered those nights when he was younger. He had been only in his teens when he started dreaming…no, fantasizing about space. He would stand outside his house in northern Maine on a warm August night. The moon would be full, riding high in the sky, its light diffused by a thin haze in the atmosphere, making everything look as if it were bathed in some kind of perpetual twilight. The stars would mostly be 242

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obscured by the diffused light of the moon, but he could still see countless stars, and he would wonder what was out there. He’d silently pray inwardly to God…or any force out there that he could someday know mysteries that most people could only wonder at. Then there had been nights when there was no moon. Every single star would be out in view. The sky would be jet black, and it would be spangled with millions of stars. They seemed incredibly close, and a bit of fear would overwhelm him, as if the sky would swallow him whole. He could never say why, except that he felt it had something to do with how vast it looked. This feeling came back to him now, as he stared into infinity. He had come full circle from when he had been that youth staring starry-eyed at the night sky, and now–faced with the reality before him, faced with the fact that he was responsible for one hundred lives (and if that vision from so many years ago was correct, responsible for the whole human race)–for the first time he felt panicked. Scott watched Henry briefly. “Is something wrong?” Henry dropped his checklist. It clattered as it hit the floor. Everyone turned around to look at Henry, and they began to feel a bit nervous as they looked at his unusually pale face. “Shit.” Scott began to get up from his station. “No, no.” Henry halted Scott just as he began to unbuckle his restraint. Henry sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He sat silently for several seconds. “Sorry…just a bit of vertigo. I’ll be fine.” “You sure?” Scott asked, concerned. “I can have Martin give you something.” Henry shook his head adamantly. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He loosened his harness and picked up his checklist. He glanced at it briefly, then back out at space before him. He cleared his throat. “I think we’re ready. Basil?” Basil’s voice came through the open channel on the intercom. “Yep. Everything’s ready to go.” Scott spoke to the Pioneer. “Ready, Sam?” “That’s affirmative. We just finished strapping the second satellite down just a few minutes ago. Our cargo bay doors are open, and our grapple is ready to receive.” 243

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Scott checked the status board for something. “Henry, our ‘spare tire’ has been secured as well. If we actually need a third satellite, anyway.” “How’s the satellite that we deployed in May doing?” Scott checked. “It’s transmitting its signal. Whether a graviton modulation is going to work or not is dubious, but we’ll see.” Henry nodded. “Lex, it’s all up to you now.” Lex nodded, and swallowed hard. He quickly wiped his brow and said, “No sweat.” He moved the thruster throttle levers slightly, making quick, minor adjustments. “Okay, Pioneer, just sit still.” “You don’t need to tell us that.” The sound of chuckling came through the cabin speaker. Lex looked at his monitor, which held the image transmitted by the camera within the Explorer’s own empty cargo bay. He watched as the Explorer moved closer to the Pioneer, watching for the other ship’s grappling hook. He eyed the screen carefully, while moving his hands over the various controls with almost scary precision. “Okay…hold on…almost there…” The Explorer’s grappling device got closer to the extended forward landing wheel of the Pioneer, ever so gradually. Lex clenched his teeth in intense concentration. Suddenly, the ship jolted slightly. “Oops,” Lex said. Before anyone raised a voice of protest, Lex quickly said, “No, it’s okay…just came in a little too quick. I have the Pioneer’s forward landing strut. Sam? You should be able to latch on to ours.” “Hold on.” Silence for several seconds. “Okay, I think we have it.” “Let’s test.” Lex tapped the z-axis thrusters as he watched his monitor. After about half a minute, he finally said, “Okay, we’re connected.” Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Henry nodded in confirmation. “Scott, let’s get going. Ten percent power until we’re out of the solar system.” “Understood. Good job, Pioneer,” Scott said, as an afterthought. “You should probably be thanking Lex. We just sat here, dumb and happy.” Lex grinned. “Thank you, thank you…I’d get up and bow if these restraints weren’t holding me in.” “Thank God,” Scott quickly said, then, while ignoring Lex’s indignant

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look, followed up with, “Okay, here we go.” He pushed a few buttons and activated the drive. The rapid-succession of microexplosions began, and then became quicker as the coupled ships moved forward. --June 20. Around 10 A.M. Henry sat in the center chair, his head hung forward, some locks of hair carelessly hanging over his forehead. A slight growth of a thin beard covered his lower face. His mouth hung open like a dead fish, and every so often, a low, guttural sound emanated from his throat. Scott sat quietly at the navigation station, resting his head on his proppedup arm, dazedly watching the navigation readouts count down as the ship neared its destination. Lex looked up at the clock overhead and sighed. “God…it feels more like 2 A.M. than 10 A.M.” He stared out the left cockpit window at the blackness beyond. “Amazing how time has hardly any meaning when you’re just floating through space.” Scott hummed absentmindedly. Lex continued to watch the mottled light of hyperspace. He then leaned over and whispered to Scott. “So…why did we have to start this watch early?” Scott motioned towards the sleeping figure behind them. “Ask Sleeping Beauty back there.” Henry let out a loud snort, as if in response. Scott sighed, then began to grin maliciously. Lex looked warily at Scott. “Uh oh. What do you have in mind?” “Watch.” Scott unstrapped himself and silently got up. He walked up to Henry’s left side and leaned close to his ear. He took a deep breath… “FIRE!” Henry suddenly leaped, his eyes wide with alarm, but the restraining harness held him close to the seat. He flailed about wildly, accidentally coldcocking Scott on the chin. Scott went sprawling backwards to the deck. Lex laughed and shuddered uncontrollably. 245

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Henry breathed heavily, and quickly surveyed the room, expecting to see smoke everywhere. His hands were now clenched tightly to the arms of the chair. After finally realizing there was no fire, he settled back. “Who the fuck did that?” “Unghhh…” came a sound from behind the command chair. Lex tried to speak, but choked on his own mirth. All he could do was point at the figure behind Henry’s chair, struggling to get up. Henry turned around to see where the sound came from, and saw Scott, kneeling on the floor, nursing his chin. “Serves you right, shithead.” Scott pulled himself off the floor. “Didn’t they ever tell you in the Navy not to sleep on watch?” The navigation console began to beep, but everyone ignored it. “This isn’t the Navy, Scott,” Henry replied. “Oh, really?” Scott massaged his chin, then crossed his arms. “What’s all the shit with ‘my second in command, my third in command’ when we left Orton?” Henry sighed. “No, Scott, it’s not like that. You see…” Lex finally looked over at the beeping console and saw that a light was flashing. “Uh, guys?” “Not like that?” Scott began to rant a bit. “You set up all these watches and other weird shit, and you’re the fucking exception or something?” “Guys?” Lex anxiously intoned. “Look, I don’t think I ever stated, at one time or another, that this was the military. Granted, you have to have someone up here to watch stuff, but there’s no need to be anal about sleep or what-not.” “Well, the way you put it, it sounded an awful lot like…” Lex unstrapped himself and jumped over to the navigation station, mumbling under his breath. Scott turned to look at the action, then noticed the flashing light on the beeping console. “Aw, shit.” “I got it.” Lex pushed a button on the console, and the view of space became normal again. He leaned back and sighed, looking at the bright star before them. He got up and returned to his normal station. Scott, still nursing his jaw, took his place and checked the readout. “Hmm. Looks like we’re about one million kilometers above the planetary plane. It tilts towards us by about fifty degrees.” 246

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The radio crackled. “Pioneer to Explorer?” Scott activated the transmitter. “Go ahead.” “We think we got our drive online now. We’re still linked up to your navigation computer, so plot the course and we’ll follow,” came Sam’s voice. He finished, “Of course…we should treat this as a test run.” “Of course. We’re going to remain in-system for a while, anyway, until we check out all suitable planets.” As an afterthought, “Should get Gary up here. The GEOCOM’s fixed, right?” “Fixed while we were gallivanting around Area 51, I was told,” Scott answered “Great!” Henry activated the intercom. “Gary to the bridge!” he paged. Within a few seconds a fairly large gentleman walked through the door into the bridge. He brushed a few strands of sandy hair away from his oval face–covered, like all the other males on board, with a thin, scraggly beard. “You rang?” “We need a run-down on this system. How many planets, and how habitable are they, from what you can scan?” Gary sat down in front of the GEOCOM console and began typing. A small three-dimensional display popped up in the center of the cockpit. “There are eleven planets. The nearest two are too hot and the outer six are way too cold. One of the cold ones, the one below us, Alpha Centauri 7, may support life, since it has an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere, but I think it would be too inhospitable for us to live on. Something to return to, however, if we need water. For us to learn more about the other planets, we must get closer to AC3, 4, and 5.” He turned to the rest of the bridge crew. “Uh, I’m using ‘AC’ to mean Alpha Centauri.” Henry nodded. “Will do. Scott, maneuver us towards the third planet.” Scott said, “Okay, hold on.” He sighed as he tapped at the console keys to plot a course. “I hate these damn precision warp jumps. They always make me edgy.” “Well,” Henry replied, “you’ll get better with practice.” The outside view began to blur and become bluish as Scott turned to Henry and glared at him. “I don’t want the opportunity to become better. We’ve been cooped up in here for just over nine days and I’m already feeling edgy.” He turned back to the front just in time to see space return to normal. 247

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“Okay. We’re fifty thousand kilometers over AC3. Lex?” Lex nodded and tapped the thrusters. The ship pitched forward revealing a swirling grayish-brown planet below. The planet rolled past the view, up and out of sight. The crew let out a groan in unison. Scott shook his head. “We shouldn’t even bother to let the rest of the people know we even stopped at this stupid system.” Lex tapped the thrusters again and the shuttle stopped pitching forward. “Relax, Scott,” Gary said. “We’ve still got two other possibilities to go.” He typed at the keyboard. “Well, seems that this planet has an environment similar to Venus. Maybe that means AC4 will be more Earth-like?” He looked at Henry, a slightly hopeful expression on his face. “Don’t look at me.” Henry sighed. He tapped a key on the armrest of the captain’s chair. “Pioneer? How did your drive hold up?” “It did well. I think we’ll be set to get underway for the long haul. Hopefully, that won’t be necessary,” came Sam’s reply. “I know what you mean. Okay, Scott, may as well take us to the next nearest of the three.” “That would be AC5. Hold on.” He plotted in another new course, and in a matter of seconds, the familiar effect of hyperspeed travel appeared outside. Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, and a dark brown planet loomed just above the view of the window, several thousand miles away. “Strike two,” Lex commented. Gary ignored the quip and focused on the GEOCOM. “Yeah. Well. It has a very thin atmosphere of oxygen and carbon dioxide, and practically no water exists on the surface of the planet. Could support life, but not us.” He fidgeted with a nearby loose piece of moulding. “Well…we may as well try AC4. This system seems fairly similar to ours so far, so maybe we’ll get lucky.” Scott quietly and without any hesitation began plotting the next course as Lex adjusted the angle of attack of the shuttle. Space blurred, flashed suddenly, and then revealed bright blue points of light. “This will take a little longer.” Scott swallowed hard. Henry fidgeted and squirmed in the seat. “Well…uh…if this doesn’t 248

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work, we have plenty of stores to last for eight more months.” Scott’s face twisted in disgust. “Yeah, those packets of dehydrated food really tantalize my taste buds. I don’t know if I can handle another thirty-three weeks of this.” He turned to Henry. “You should think about how the rest of the passengers think, too.” Henry sighed. “Scott, if we went back to Earth, what would we do then?” “What about the general’s offer?” “There’s no guarantees there. You know that. He even said so. I’ll be surprised if he isn’t in a federal prison by now, considering. And besides, I’d hate to think we’d give up so quickly after three people already died for this mission. Including Ted.” Scott stared at Henry for a while, then looked down as he turned back to the forward window. “Yeah, I see your point.” He sighed a soulful sigh. “Still, if we don’t find anything out here…” He tapped some keys on the navigation station and the shuttle entered normal space. Henry, realizing that he, himself, has not been too thrilled with the journey thus far, secretly crossed his fingers. “Where is it?” “To our left,” Gary responded. Lex immediately set the shuttle into a gentle spin to the left…and a bright green and blue planet appeared in the viewports. Scott yelled out, “Yes!” He tried to leap up, but the restraints had him held in. So he raised his clenched fists in triumph instead. “Hold on,” Gary warned. Scott rolled his head in disbelief. “NOW what?” Gary typed at the keyboard in silence for what seemed like several minutes. He then leaned back and sighed. “We don’t want to go down there.” Henry frowned. “Why not?” “It appears there is an industrial civilization of some sort down there, spanning most of the globe. I’d estimate about one billion inhabitants.” He turned around and the 3-D holographic display appeared, showing the various cities dotted amongst the continents. “Sorry, folks, but this place is taken. I’d say they’re at the equivalent to our late 1800s and early 1900s.” “No space flight?” Lex asked. “Well, there’s nothing in orbit. I am picking up weak radio signals, so they may have recently discovered radio.” 249

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“That ought to make SETI at home salivate when they pick those signals up,” Lex commented. “Are the inhabitants humanoid?” Gary shot a queer look at Lex. “I can’t tell that from here! It doesn’t give me a description of how they look.” He looked back at the console. “They do appear to be warm-blooded, though…but from here that’s difficult to tell with any great degree of certainty. They could also be a race of cold-blooded lizard men wandering around carrying around warm flashlights or baked bread or something, for all I know.” “Lizard men with flashlights…” Lex idly pondered. Scott chimed in. “Can we at least land at an uninhabited area to get out and stretch our legs?” Gary shook his head. “We could introduce foreign pathogens to their ecosystem. Granted, the population may not encounter it for years…well, let me put it to you this way. Ever wonder how all the horrifying and weird diseases showed up on Earth? There’s a chance they could be extraterrestrial in origin. And even if that’s not the case, we cannot take that risk. Besides, who’s to say if we land someplace, there won’t be a small village nearby that the GEOCOM missed? We cannot take that risk.” Scott turned back to the forward window, grumbling, “well, maybe you should improve the damn system.” The crew sat in silence for a while, staring out at the taunting blue and green beacon before them. Gary finally got up, saying, “Well, I’m done here. Sorry, guys.” He reached over and switched off the GEOCOM. The hologram disappeared in the blink of an eye. He solemnly walked out of the bridge. Henry spoke to Scott. “How far to Procyon?” Scott drearily typed at the console. “Twenty-seven days, seven hours, thirty minutes.” He flopped backwards into the back of his seat and sighed deeply. Lex tapped the piloting controls and the ship pitched and turned towards the next star. “Well, we may as well get going. Signal the Pioneer to prepare to get underway.” Scott nodded at Henry’s words. He sent the signal to the other ship, then activated the drive. The ships sped off into the blackness of space.

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--November 17, 2008. 7:10 A.M. Space returned to normal as the view of a bright yellow star appeared before them. “Pioneer, here. Checking in,” came an unfamiliar voice. Henry frowned a bit. “Sam? No. Who’s this? I don’t think I recognize you.” “It’s Frederick Shultz. Or, as Sam introduced me several months ago…” “Oh, yes, Fred. Getting the hang of piloting that beast?” Henry said with a smile. “Yeah, well, I’d prefer to be on solid ground myself.” “So would we all,” said one of the watchstanders. Lex shot a mirthful look at the navigation console operator. Henry sighed and crossed his arms. “Fred, how’s the link-up between the nav consoles?” “Still good. Good thing the transmission hasn’t been severely affected by our travels faster than light–although those gravitational distortions did make things interesting for a while.” “Okay, I’ll get Gary up here so we can see what planets are worth a look.” “Understood. I’ll be standing by on this channel.” Henry pressed a button on the intercom. “Gary? We’ve arrived at the Altair system.” A loud sigh rumbled over the com. “All right. I’m on my way.” Henry heard the fatigue in the man’s voice and suddenly remembered his. He felt like he hadn’t slept in days. Yet another star system loomed before them. Henry had been originally feeling fairly brave for the first four systems…but after those didn’t pan out, he figured he should stay fairly close to Earth…just in case. ‘Just in case’ was getting fairly close. This was star system number seven. They had enough supplies to do just two more star systems. The next one on the list was Vega, then the last hopeful stop at 61 Cygnus. Then they had to return to Earth, to Homestation. Probably everyone would have had enough and abandon the quest. And all this would have been for nothing. But even Henry did not feel he could handle too much more 251

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disappointment. Perhaps those who did leave when the two ships returned to Earth could be replaced with whomever Al, the current man in charge of Homestation, had dredged up. Or perhaps this was all a mistake. But now the Altair system beckoned the beleaguered crews of the shuttles, and a sense of hope slowly filled Henry’s heart. Gary finally came in through the doorway, looking like he had slept in the gutter. His otherwise neat sandy hair stood up on the left side of his head, and a large, fluffy beard covered his face. He nonchalantly plopped himself at the GEOCOM and typed. “Okay, people. I only see one planet here that even has a remote chance. The others are either too hot or too cold. Go to Altair 3.” “Stand by, Pioneer,” Henry announced. He motioned to the man at the navigation controls, who plotted the course and engaged the drive. After about one minute traveling faster than light, the light of the stars returned to normal. Lex adjusted the position of the ship, and a planet began the fill the viewport from the right. Henry’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the planet below. It appeared to be mostly forested, covered with clouds and dotted with large lakes and small seas. “Gary…” “I’m on it.” He typed furiously at the keyboard. The hologram appeared overhead, showing the particulars of the planet. After a few minutes of scrutinizing the data, Gary came up with a conclusion. He turned to the rest of the crew. “Okay.” He took a deep breath then leaped up. “It’s good! It’s good! I can’t find anything wrong with the planet at all. There’s no signs of civilization, and it appears to be a very fertile planet!” “What kind of life is there down there?” Gary turned back and squinted at the GEOCOM monitor. “Nothing much bigger than an elk, from what I can gather. Not on this side of the planet. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” Henry shifted anxiously in his seat. “Fred…did you hear?” “Did I! Shall we go in?” “Absolutely. Lead the way, Pioneer. Ger, run the pre-landing checklist.” The man at the navigation controls swiveled to his right and began the check. He started with the ship mock-up. Henry pressed the button on the shipwide intercom, his finger turning 252

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white from the pressure he put on the button. Although the intercom was on, he didn’t say anything. He just wanted everyone to know the good news. “Okay,” Ger reported, “here’s the structural report. Fuselage…ready. Heat shielding appears okay…” He squinted at a flashing yellow light on one of the displays. “Uh, hold on a minute.” Henry frowned. “What’s wrong?” Ger pushed a button on a nearby intercom. “Basil…is everything okay down there?” The voice responded. “Not sure. There seems to be a slight power fluctuation in the electromagnetic engines. Simulations say that there’s a chance of power failure under these conditions.” Henry frowned again. “So, what does that mean?” “It means if we try landing, we could lose power and crash. There might be something loose, like a power conduit. Could’ve started coming loose when the shuttle came to the Pioneer’s rescue. I will need to track it down. It’s going to take several hours, maybe half a day.” The bridge crew sighed collectively. Henry shook his head in disappointment. “Very well. Ger…contact the Pioneer.” Ger, the one at the navigation console, nodded and activated the communications console. He turned to Henry. “You’re on.” Henry nodded. “Pioneer? We’re having difficulties with the electromagnetic engines. How is your ship holding up?” “We’re ready to land. Do you want us to wait with you?” Henry closed his eyes and thought. He did not want to get anyone in trouble on what may very well be the descent to their new home. He opened his eyes. “If you feel that you are all right, you can land.” “Yes…yes, we’ll be all right. What will you do?” Henry sighed deeply, knowing that he could not risk the passengers over his own lack of patience. “We’ll remain in orbit until we can check out what’s wrong. We’ll catch up with you in twelve to twenty-four hours.” Henry cocked his head as he heard a collective moan come from the passageway behind him, and suddenly remembered he turned the intercom on. He promptly shut it off. “Damn.” He slammed his fist down on the armrest. Ger frowned. “You know…maybe we should take this as a sign.” “A sign of what?” Henry glowered a little. 253

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Ger shifted in his seat. “Well…we’ve been striking out consistently system after system…” Before Henry could let out a string of profanity, Gary interrupted. “Ger, we’re lucky we’ve even found what systems we’ve found, let alone this one. So intelligent life has developed on the only habitable system we’ve found up to now. Odds are, we’ll find something…” Gary turned back to the GEOCOM. “And this one is uninhabited!” The bell sounded, indicating the end of the watch. Henry looked up at the clock and sighed. “Well…it sounds like we’ve got at least twelve hours until we can follow the Pioneer in. We may as well get some rest.” Henry unstrapped himself as the next watch came in. He nodded at his relief, who nodded a shaggy head back at him. The man strapped himself in, muttering silently to himself. Henry turned back to the exit and sighed. He stepped out into the passageway and almost knocked Harry over. “Sorry!” “Huh?” Harry said, absentmindedly. “Oh, that’s all right. I’m just daydreaming.” “Yeah, sorry about the news.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s all right. I’m in no hurry to land on that planet.” Henry frowned. “That planet? I don’t understand what you’re getting at.” Harry frowned in thought. “I’m not a big forest fan, I guess. I grew up in the farmland, remember? I wouldn’t want to be on a planet that’s almost all forest.” He absent-mindedly looked through the airlock porthole. “And I have an odd feeling about that planet. I can’t put my finger on it.” Henry’s frown intensified. “I don’t like the sound of that. Should I call the Pioneer back?” Harry continued to stare out the porthole. “I don’t know. Something tells me they should land…that they’re supposed to.” “And what about us?” “I don’t know,” he quietly said. Henry turned and headed back into the cockpit. His relief turned around and looked at him - his face twisting a little when he saw the deep etches of concern in Henry’s face. “Contact the Pioneer,” Henry ordered. “What? Why?” “Just do it. I want to make sure everything is okay.” 254

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The bridge crew looked at each other. The woman now operating the navigation console reached over to the com panel. “Explorer to Pioneer…Explorer to Pioneer…come in.” There was a loud burst of static. “Go ahead.” Henry spoke. “Sam? Is everything okay?” “Huh? Yeah, everything’s fine.” There was some quiet mumbling in the background. “Oh. Uh, we are having some difficulties with the GEOCOM right now, but it doesn’t pose any navigational threat. We have found the perfect little place to land, at 33-15-45 north latitude and 101-45-53 west longitude, as established. The opening is slightly rough, but nothing this ship can’t handle.” Henry frowned and looked out the forward window. Night was beginning to set in the area the Pioneer planned on landing at. “It’s getting dark there, you know,” he warned. “We should be on the ground in ten minutes. We’ll be fine.” Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?” “Yes! God, get off our backs, would you?” The com terminated. Henry sighed. “Hail them again.” The woman shook her head and tried again. “Explorer to Pioneer…come in.” Silence. “Explorer to Pioneer…come in Pioneer…” Nothing. She turned to Henry. “I think they shut their ‘com system off. Henry rolled his eyes. Something in his stomach twisted…there was something not right here. But there was nothing he could do now. “All right. Never mind, folks. I’m going to catch some shuteye. Good night.” The crew muttered their farewells. Henry stepped back into the passageway. The door slid closed. He looked around. Harry had already left–could have gone either to the rec room or into his cabin. Henry shrugged. There was something odd about the planet? A life form? Pathogen? Bad voodoo vibes? Henry leaned against his door and thought. The GEOCOM never picked anything up other than the ‘usual’ wildlife, nothing that seemed to pose any kind of threat–although the readings were somewhat faint, which he couldn’t understand. And the Pioneer’s GEOCOM was acting squirrelly. What were the odds that both ships were having difficulties with their sensors at the same time? Was the

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Pioneer going to lose control and crash into the ground? What made Harry so edgy about Altair 3… Henry’s stomach rumbled without warning. He figured he was going to tear into a food packet before catching some sleep. He sighed and walked down the passageway to the rec room. He could hear some sounds in the other cabins - mostly people watching one of the many movies Henry decided they should bring to kill the time. This one, like the others he was sure, had probably been played for the fifteenth time by now. He shook his head and walked into the rec room. No Harry here. The morning–and current–watch, as was their duty, had left out food rations just before assuming the watch. He grabbed one and opened it. He put it to his mouth and took a bite out of the cakey substance, grimacing as he chewed. He thought some more about the odd statement Harry made. He had a habit of making odd statements. No sense worrying about it…there was not much he could do now, anyway. But it was still odd. --The staticky voice came over the cabin speaker. “If you feel that you are all right, you can land.” Sam nodded to Fred as he walked into the cockpit and took the center seat. Fred responded to the Explorer. “Yes…yes, we’ll be all right. What will you do?” “We’ll remain in orbit until we can check out what’s wrong. We’ll catch up with you in approximately twelve to twenty-four hours.” The Explorer closed the channel. Sam finished strapping himself in and nodded to Fred. “Take us down.” “Roger that!” He adjusted the thrusters and navigated the ship towards the planet. Liz turned from the GEOCOM console to Sam. “Do we really want to do this?” “Are you nuts?” Fred answered from the navigation console. “We’ve been cooped up in this ship for over five months! I need to get out and stretch my legs!” 256

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Liz frowned. “I still don’t like flying down there blind.” Sam shook his head. “The Explorer’s GEOCOM is running fine. Ours is solely a backup. We’ll be all right.” Liz hummed. “I just find it odd that it would cut out now. I mean…I’m not getting anything down there except for terrain features and very faint life signs.” She looked seriously at Sam. “And I don’t know why you didn’t report this to Henry.” “We’re fine, Liz! Relax! Not every planet has to be teeming with life, you know.” Sam waved a hand at the woman. “Have you found some place we can land? We’ll be in the atmosphere very soon.” Liz sighed in resignation. “Yes.” She turned to the console. “It’s 33-1545 north latitude and 101-45-53 west longitude, as established. There is a large lake nearby, just to the east of the selected landing site. It’s the most convenient landing location for our current position. The majority of this planet is covered in forests. We’re not in a good position right now to see if there are any larger clearings, and we seem to be in a really big hurry.” Sam ignored the last comment. “Sounds good to me. A good night’s sleep and a bath in the lake the next morning. Can’t beat that.” “Maybe there’s some wild game we can hunt and eat. Those damn rations are driving me crazy,” Fred added. “Agreed,” Sam replied. “Should we at least have someone in the ship watching just in case something unfriendly comes? I mean, I should have this thing working in about an hour…” Liz said. “Sure…you can have first watch.” Sam grinned. Liz smirked. “As long as Fred has second.” “Hey!” Fred looked dejected. “Okay.” Sam grinned at Fred. “It’s only a four-hour watch. Then you can come out and be with the rest of us. Let’s humor Liz, okay?” Fred sighed. “Very well.” Just then, the com system started beeping, and a voice came over the cabin speakers. “Explorer to Pioneer…Explorer to Pioneer…come in.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Curious.” He motioned to Fred to turn on the ‘com channel, which he did. “Go ahead.” Henry spoke. “Sam? Is everything okay?” 257

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Sam frowned. “Huh? Yeah, everything’s fine.” He mouthed ‘what the fuck’ to the crew. They shrugged back. Liz turned to Sam and harshly whispered, “Tell him about the GEOCOM.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh. Uh, we are having some difficulties with the GEOCOM right now, but it doesn’t pose any navigational threat. We have found the perfect little place to land, at 33-15-45 north latitude and 101-4553 west longitude, as established. The opening is slightly rough, but nothing this ship can’t handle.” There was a bit of a pause “It’s getting dark there, you know,” Henry responded. “We should be on the ground in ten minutes. We’ll be fine.” There was a hint of uncertainty in Henry’s voice. “Are you sure?” Sam sighed and threw his arms in the air. “Yes! God, get off our backs, would you?” He made a swiping motion at his neck. Fred got the message and closed the channel. “Jesus! What is up with that guy?” “Jealous,” Fred reasoned. Sam snorted. “Probably.” The cabin speaker started blaring with a hail from the Explorer again. Sam clenched his teeth. “And shut that damn thing off, while you’re at it there!” He sighed and rested back in the command chair. “Well…so they can’t land with us. Nothing can be done about that right now. No sense of them crashing into the planet or anything. We wouldn’t want to just have one group of colonists…we need both ships. Steady as she goes.” Fred nodded. The ship silently began its entry into the atmosphere of Altair 3. --The next day. Henry strode into the cockpit, feeling oddly refreshed, despite the lack of bathing. Travis acknowledged his arrival and removed himself from the captain’s seat. Lex and Scott simultaneously said, “Hi, Henry,” both looking optimistic. “Hey.” He sat in the chair and strapped himself in. “Travis, thank you. 258

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Better prepare for landing. Scott…contact the Pioneer and let them know everything is fine and that we’ll be at their site in fifteen minutes.” “Affirmative.” Scott activated the radio. “Explorer to Pioneer, we’re ready to land. We’ll be down in fifteen minutes.” Silence. Scott frowned. “They must be sleeping or something. Explorer to Pioneer, come in. Our electromagnetic engines are okay and we will be landing at your site in fifteen minutes.” Silence. Lex leaned over and whispered to Scott. “Didn’t they shut their com off last night after Henry grilled them for information or something?” “They’d still turn it back on after a while…it’d be foolish for them to do anything different,” Scott quietly replied. “They know we’re supposed to check in by now.” Henry had a strange, uneasy feeling in his stomach, and the sense of optimism that he woke with today diminished. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know!” Scott activated the intercom. “Gary! We need you in here!” In a flash, Gary burst in from the passageway. “What’s up? Trying to get a better fix on the Pioneer? I thought they told us their coordinates. That should be enough.” “No, no…they’re not responding. Can you use this GEOCOM thing to see where they may be at?” “Yeah. Hold on.” He sat down and punched the keys at the console. He looked at the data, then frowned. “How odd. I’m not getting anything. Nothing I should be getting, anyway…I think I’ve picked up their homing beacon, though.” Henry’s throat tightened and loosened. “Maybe the ship is shielding their body heat?” “Nobody’s answering in there, Henry,” Scott reminded. Suddenly, the speaker burst with static. “Explorer? Oh my God, oh my God, we need help down here. Something…” A loud bang reverberated over the speaker. “It’s out there! Explorer! Do something! I don’t know what’s out there, or what’s going on! Expl–” One last bang, and the radio went dead. 259

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Henry suddenly felt like he was in freefall, half of his body twisting one way, the other half twisting the other. “Go down! Go down! And activate weapons, Lex!” “Y.. yeah, I’m on it.” Lex nervously fidgeted with the weapon controls. “On line.” The ship dove towards the planet surface. “Gary, can you determine what the hell is going on down there?” Gary typed furiously at the GEOCOM console. The holographic display appeared overhead, detailing the area around the Pioneer. No heat sources were detailed on the display except for one large anomaly outside with a minimal heat signature. “What the hell is that?” Henry nervously asked. “I don’t know. Scott; we’re still linked to the Pioneer, right?” Scott stared at the approaching planet surface for several seconds. “Huh? Oh.” He turned to the mock-up, as if reading Gary’s mind, and checked the status of the ship on the planet’s surface. The mock-up changed from all green lights to several red and yellow lights. Scott leaped as far back as his seat would let him. “What is going on down there?” He tried to radio the Pioneer again. “Pioneer, come in! Anyone, come in! Damn it!” The bridge buzzed in a frenzy as everyone tried to figure out what was going on. The anomaly still remained near the Pioneer, this time on the other side of the ship. Henry clenched his fists and glared at Gary. “Why didn’t we pick up that…whatever it is earlier?” “Hey!” Gary defended himself. “I told you that the GEOCOM can only do so much. That creature’s heat signal is too low to pick up on a broad sweep of the planet! Gods!” “Hey, hey!” Scott warned. “We’re almost entering the atmosphere. Get your straps on, Gary!” Gary hurriedly strapped himself in and tried to avoid Henry’s gaze. Henry slumped back in his chair, fuming over the disaster. The ship began to shudder as it entered the atmosphere. “Can’t this thing go any faster?” Henry impatiently asked. 260

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Scott swiveled around sharply. “You want us to die, too?” Henry stared at Scott’s anger-twisted face for several seconds, as the ship began to vibrate from the friction of the atmosphere, then he looked away. Scott swiveled back to his station. “Asshole,” he muttered. “Look, Scott, this is no time–” “Guys!” Lex interrupted. “Let’s not argue right now.” The ship began to shudder more violently, and some of the lights on the mock-up went from green to yellow. Outside, the surface of the forest planet grew closer. Lex maneuvered the shuttle into a more level descent, aiming for the location the Pioneer landed at. The area appeared to be on the edge of night–sunrise wouldn’t happen for a half hour. After several minutes of unsettling quiet–save the rattling of the shuttle– Scott’s eyes widened dramatically, and he waved a finger at something outside the window, barely visible in the twilight. “Look!” Something quickly disappeared out of the small clearing, rushing into the dense woods. Something big. Henry’s eyes bugged out. “What the hell was that?” “I don’t know!” Scott replied. Instantaneously, everyone set their eyes on Gary. “Huh? Oh.” He typed at the GEOCOM, and studied the data. “Nothing. The anomaly’s gone. I mean, it’s gone! I can’t find it anywhere. Maybe it can reduce its body heat to hide from creatures that can sense heat?” “Any other telltales?” Henry asked. Gary shook his head. “No…no bio-signs whatsoever. Nothing like what we just saw, anyway. I don’t know what to say!” “Hold on, guys. I’m going to land,” Lex warned. Henry barely acknowledged Lex’s warning. “Too late to worry about it now. But once we touch down, keep an eye out for anything that could threaten us. And I mean that monster, specifically.” The ship bumped a bit as the shuttle touched ground. Gary nodded in response. “Will do. I wouldn’t go out there on a bet, anyway.” The battered hulk of the Pioneer loomed ahead, as the Explorer closed in. The electromagnetic engines screamed loudly as Lex started to bring the ship to a halt. 261

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Henry nodded. “Well…I sent them down here. I’m going out. Scott, if something should go wrong and I can’t get back in time…” Scott turned in his chair and frowned. “I’m not leaving you behind.” “Scott, if that thing returns, there’s not a whole hell of a lot of choice.” The shuttle slowed near the Pioneer. Lex adjusted the thrusters and it turned around, ready for a quick takeoff should the need arise. The shuttle then stopped. Henry unstrapped himself and leaped out of his chair. He opened the door to the passageway, to see several anxious faces looking out at him. One was already in the passageway, carrying some of his belongings. “No, nobody can leave the ship,” he ordered. The passengers moaned. The man with the luggage slumped. “Jesus, we’ve been cooped up in here for months…” “It’s not safe,” Henry warned. “I have to go rescue people from the Pioneer.” “Rescue?” someone echoed. The passengers muttered among themselves as Henry activated the airlock. The inner door closed behind him with a hiss, and the outer one opened. The ladder began to extend, but Henry jumped out without it. Picking himself up off of the ground, he looked around him and listened. The forest was almost totally quiet, except for the machinery on the Explorer. The tattered hull of the Pioneer rested only two hundred feet away, completely silent in the morning twilight. One of the struts had been damaged, and the ship leaned on its side, the right wing bent slightly under the weight of the hull. Tall grasses surrounded the ships in the clearing. The grass was severely trampled around the Pioneer. Henry swallowed hard and ran up to the right side of the shuttle. Whatever attacked the shuttle seemed to know what it was doing: welds had been broken in a number of places, thus making the hull unable to withstand the vacuum of space. The main outer airlock door faced the ground. “Hello?” he yelled. “Anyone?” He fidgeted with the locking mechanism. It buzzed at him, indicating that it would not release, at least not automatically. Henry found the emergency release and yanked on it. The door opened violently and hung impotently from its mechanism. Henry looked in, and saw that the floor was too steep to simply walk on. Finding a foothold, he climbed inside and 262

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activated the inner airlock. It opened a little, but Henry had to push it further open to get inside. He climbed in. The passageway was a mess of personal belongings, cables, and other miscellaneous debris. Some of the lights were flickering, and most of them were out due to open–or destroyed–circuits and lack of power. “Hello?” Henry yelled again. This time, he heard a moan from the bridge. He crawled on the sloping floor and gingerly opened the door, which slid open gracefully. Inside, he saw the bruised body of a man. He climbed in, using the handholds designed for zero-G flight, and got to the person. He rolled him over. “Fred! Hey, you gonna make it?” “Uhh…” Henry hissed as he made a cursory examination of the injuries. “Can you get up?” “Uh…I think so.” Fred gained his bearings, then grabbed a hold of one of the handholds to pull himself up. Slowly, he pulled himself up. He obviously was in much pain. “Yeah. I think I’ll be okay. I feel awfully cold, though.” Damn, Henry thought, internal injuries. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Where’s the rest?” “Outside. Between the ship and the forest.” The two men carefully made their way out of the Pioneer. Henry looked towards the forest, then towards the Explorer, which was in the middle of the clearing. “Can you make it?” he asked Fred. Fred nodded weakly. He staggered off towards the Explorer. Henry headed towards the dark woods, and a great feeling of trepidation washed over him. He stopped, regained some form of composure, and continued. He stopped after only about ten steps when he saw a horrifying sight. Body parts were strewn everywhere amongst the blood-soaked grass. Henry felt his stomach turn. He backed away from the sight to trip over something and come crashing down on his rear. Looking, he saw what he stumbled on. Sam’s head laid there, his mouth and eyes wide open in terror. Henry turned his head and retched. He scrambled back to his feet…just barely…and tried to look around some more, to see if anyone could’ve survived. He yelled out into the predawn forest, just in case someone had run into the woods. “Anyone still alive out there? Hello?” 263

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There was a loud crash, probably about half a mile into the woods, and then the sound of a terrifying howl rolled out of the bowels of the wilderness. The hair on Henry’s neck stood out, and he stumbled backwards, almost falling to the ground again. There was another, louder crash, and Henry spun around and sprinted for the Explorer. Fred was more than halfway to the shuttle, obviously trying to move very quickly, in spite of the pain. Scott stood at the opening into the shuttle, urging them on. “Damn it, move! Gary says that thing will be back here in less than a minute!” The electromagnetic engines whined loudly and the ship started to very slowly move forward. Scott ducked back inside and yelled something at the bridge crew. The ship slowed to a stop again. He stuck his head back out and motioned to the two men outside to hurry up. Henry caught up to Fred and helped him up the ladder. Henry followed close behind, just as a loud crash echoed out of the forest. When Henry got to the top of the ladder, he looked behind to see what was coming. A large creature, probably twenty feet tall, burst out of the woods. Four horns sat on its head, pointing forward and outward. They were covered with what looked like blood. The creature had almost an apelike appearance, but grayish scales covered its body instead of fur. It saw the fleeing ship and screamed loudly. Then it began its advance. Scott screamed. “It’s fucking Bigfoot!” He turned to the bridge. “Go! Go! GO!” The three stumbled around in the airlock, trying to keep their balance in the shuddering vessel as it picked up speed. Scott stumbled forward into the bridge. Henry clumsily groped for the handle to the outer door, grabbed it, and slammed it home. He stumbled past Fred, who was doubled over in the passageway. He stopped to lean over and get some information. “Fred! Do you know if there are any other survivors down there?” Fred tried to keep from being banged around as the ship hurtled forward on the uneven ground of the clearing. A blank look crossed his face, as if he were trying to think of an answer. “No,” he finally said. “After the first attack, I called out, but I got no response. They must be all dead. Then the beast came back a second time for the ship, just at the time I called you all. I…couldn’t get the shields up in time. It rammed into the shuttle, knocking it onto its side. I didn’t think anything could ever do that…” 264

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“Damn it, Henry,” Scott hollered from the cockpit. “Hold on, Fred,” Henry reassured. Henry got up and maneuvered his way into the cockpit. Lex was bent over the controls to the electromagnetic engines. He had his hand pushed very hard against the secondary throttle, and sweat poured down the sides of his face. Gary stared numbly at the GEOCOM readout. “It’s behind us and moving very quickly!” “God damn it, Gary, I’m doing the best that I can,” Lex sharply responded. Henry suddenly remembered Fred, who was still stumbling around in the passageway. He fell into his chair and strapped himself in. He then activated the intercom. “Martin! You have an emergency in the passageway. Better move it!” He then switched it off. “We’re losing it,” Gary announced. “Good!” Lex replied. He checked the speed and then pulled back on the yoke. The ship pitched towards the sky. “And good riddance!” The crew breathed one collective sigh of relief. As the ship rocketed back into space, leaving the remains of the Pioneer behind, the crew sat in an awkward silence. After several minutes, Lex made some adjustments and brought the shuttle to a stop, several thousand miles from the planet. He then turned around and looked at Henry, who was very pale. “How many did we save?” Henry blankly stared into space before him. “One,” he quietly responded. He swallowed hard. “I asked Fred before liftoff. The rest are…dead.” Lex’s face sunk and he turned back to his controls. After several more minutes of silence, Henry spoke. “Scott, take us to the next system. I’m going to be in my cabin for a while. Please excuse me.” Scott quietly nodded and plotted in a new course. Henry unstrapped himself and left the cabin. The crew sat in silence as the ship slipped into hyperspace. The blue fire of the twisted light of the stars seemed to blaze into everyone’s psyche. Suddenly, out of nowhere–or everywhere–came a blood-curdling scream, a scream of a tortured soul who suddenly knew what it would have to live with for eternity.

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XIV December 21, 2008. Henry silently checked the roster, noting the changes made by Basil and Scott as to who should fill what station. This had been the third change in as many weeks. He felt that all these changes were just so Basil and Scott could fill some time while the ship hurtled to its next destination. He flipped the sheet to the ship’s status. Two months of rations left…and some of those two months were supposed to be used during their first few weeks on the new system they were supposed to be inhabiting. The quality of the rations– among other things–had all the passengers of the ship on edge. He had had to stop a fight only minutes before checking in for his watch, and that was the tenth one this month. Even he had been feeling very irritable. Seven star systems they had gone through, and the best opportunity had been way back near the beginning. He closed his eyes and sighed. If only it had not been inhabited. But the odds of finding an uninhabited–and safe–planet was unlikely. In fact, the whole directive established by the crew to not inhabit populated worlds had sparked many of the fights as of late. Henry had, of course, been the major proponent to finding an uninhabited world, but even now, he began to rethink his stance. He opened his eyes and looked back at the report. They had just thirty days of usable water before they either had to properly clean out the recycler units or get fresh water, of which there had been none for several months. The tanks only held about fifty days of water, which now held recycled water alone. The recyclers made sure they had

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potable water…although it was a bit unappetizing to think of where the water came from. The water was still clean, although it tasted a little dull, but the thought…He shook the thought loose and remembered that not only was it the only way of getting water, but it had been his idea in the first place. He realized that, at any rate, no matter what there was in the Vega system, they had to at least clean the recycler out so they could continue cleaning water, whether it was to drink it en route to home (should there be nothing at the Vega system), or to use it while they ensured a new planet was suitable to live on. He looked up at the bleary-eyed and haggard crew before him, as they stared out at the blazing blue balls of light that made up the view of space at this incredible speed. He scratched his thickly bearded chin, and achingly dreamed of shaving. To conserve space and as much power as possible, only essential electronics had been brought on board (as far as entertainment went, the only thing available to anyone was the ship’s entertainment, which had been getting old very fast). And even though there was enough water, the chemicals in shaving cream could have clogged the recycler. The recycler could only have recycled enough water to drink and maybe bathe in occasionally. Bathe. He flipped through some pages and came to the bathing schedule. His two-minute shower wasn’t until next week. He looked up at the overhead clock. 3:43 A.M. His watch ended in two minutes. Then he had the joy of going through more reports. Actually, it was a joy, because it was, at least, something to do. He flipped to the entertainment schedule. He, at least, had the presence of mind to ensure every one of the twenty-five cabins and the common room had a small screen on which to watch the scheduled ship’s entertainment. He looked and saw what was on. A whole day of action movies. He sighed. The choice of movies had been another cause for a fight about two weeks ago, when Lex wanted to have more comedy on the ship’s entertainment system. Personally, Henry had seen the whole damn library, twice, and wished he had traded the space reserved for those horrid food packs for just two more hard drives filled with movies. No, he didn’t. He shook his head at that thought. The movies did help pass the time, but the food kept everyone alive. That, and watching all those

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movies on that tiny nine inch screen in his cabin had probably totally ruined his eyes. The bell sounded overhead, indicating that the watch was over. He turned just in time to see Scott trudge through the door. His beard has grown incredibly long; a golden flow of hair hung down below his belt. He pointed his bleary eyes at Henry and waved a hand at him, as if to say, “Get out of my seat.” Henry graciously and gratefully left the captain’s chair, and Scott plunked down in it. Henry left the somewhat dim light of the bridge for the even dimmer light of the passageway. The door slid closed behind him with a hiss. The red light in the passageway kept people in their cabins from being disturbed from their sleep when people came and went. Its garish light, though, offered very little comfort right now. He groped for the door handle to his cabin and slowly pulled the door open. He stepped into the small cubicle he and Sarah called home. It was six feet deep by five feet wide by six feet tall. Travis had complained frequently–as well as the rest of the crew–about the cramped conditions. Two bunks were attached to the forward wall. Sarah was currently sleeping in the rack above, her low snoring filling the cabin. Henry stepped in and quietly closed the door. Sarah twitched a bit in her sleep, but then proceeded to snore as if she had never been disturbed. Henry pulled off his shoes and flopped into his two-foot wide bunk. He squirmed and twisted uncomfortably until he was laying on his back, staring up at the sagging bunk above him. So very tired…but unable to sleep. He laid there in silence for what seemed like hours, thinking about the failures the ship had gone through. The biggest blow had been in the last star system they visited, Altair, when almost all of the Pioneer’s crew had been lost on Altair 3. Had both ships landed there at the same time…Henry shuddered a bit and rolled around until he was lying on his right side. Still couldn’t sleep. He sighed, pulled himself out of bed, put on his shoes and quietly walked back out into the passageway. He looked around. One of the other passengers was knocking on someone’s door, very quietly. Henry squinted as he tried to make out who it was in the dim red light. He recognized who it was…Fred, one of the pilots from the Pioneer and its sole survivor. Fred remained inside the shuttle to stand watch while the rest of the 268

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passengers…including his wife…slept under the stars that night. For the last time. Fred eyed Henry warily before the door opened. Fred quickly stepped inside and the door closed as quietly as it opened. What had Henry seen in his eyes? Henry shuddered a bit. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it didn’t look good. Anger? Understandable, considering his loss. Everyone’s loss. Or perhaps Henry was just seeing things. He figured maybe he should just go see who was still up, instead of trying to second-guess everyone on the ship. Henry walked into the tight recreation room. Travis was sitting at one of the two tables. A paper was before him, and Travis was staring at it intently. Henry pulled up a chair and sat down next to Travis. “What are you up to?” “I’m working on a different way to track the time. Since we’re no longer dependent on the Earth for a basis of time, I’m constructing a new way of recording the date. Kind of like the ‘stardates’ on certain sci-fi television shows, you know.” Henry yawned deeply and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, explain,” he said, realizing he had nothing else to do. Travis started. “Okay, here’s what we got. Today is the 21st of December, 2008. A Julian date is a numerical representation of where the day lies in the year. For example, the 30th of January would be 030. The first of February would be 032, since it is the 32nd day of the year. Do you understand so far?” Henry nodded. “Yep. I was in the military. I understand Julian dates. Continue.” “Okay. With that in mind, here’s how it would look. Since today is the 21st of December, the Julian date would be 355. Therefore, under this new system, the date would read something like this: 355.2008 “The first three numbers is the number of the day of the year. December 21 is the 355th day in the year. Two thousand eight is, of course, the year.” “Interesting, Travis. You must be bored.” “Well, we’ve been in space for over six months, Captain Obvious. We left the last star system forty-three days ago. There’s not a whole hell of a lot to do.” Henry nodded. “I sure hope we find something…a planet we can stay at. 269

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Many of the people on board are getting restless. And after Altair. That, and I just talked to Basil. We have only a month worth of usable water left. The recycling system cannot filter anymore unless we can clean it out somehow. That, and we’re running low on our oxygen supply. Also thanks to the dirty recycler unit. I thought the greenhouse belowdecks would help, but it’s still not quite enough.” Henry sighed. Travis nodded glumly. “I don’t know what to say. I hope nothing else bad happens. Many a captain has been thrown overboard in a mutiny…and, unfortunately, ‘overboard’ here means space.” Henry nodded, then checked his watch. “I should probably try to get some sleep. I better move forward.” “Later.” Henry unsealed the hatch forward and opened it. Henry stopped short when he saw a group of ragged faces, peering at him from the red lit passageway. Henry recognized the person who was out front almost immediately. “Henry, you’ve got to take us back to Earth! There’s no ‘paradise’ or any habitable world out here. We’ve already lost fifty-two people on this expedition of yours–three on Earth and the rest on Altair 3. If you don’t turn this rig around, then we will!” Fred demanded. “How ironic,” Travis noted from behind. Henry shot a look to Travis. He then faced the crowd. “Listen, Fred, I understand what you’ve gone through. What we’ve all gone through. We’ve only got two more systems to go, all right? Just have a little faith…you must have faith. After all, we did make it past those troops…” “Maybe it would’ve been better if we had been stopped by those troops. You’ve doomed us to die out here! I heard how much water and oxygen we have left! We’ve got just enough to make it to Earth, maybe.” Basil came out of the engineering space. “What’s all the hub-bub?” Henry shook his head and motioned to the crowd. “They want to go back. Now.” He focused back on the people. “Now, look…” Basil gaped in dismay. “What? We’re only four days from Vega! We’d have wasted a fucking month…no, over six months total just to go this far and turn around now!” Fred turned on Basil and raved at him. “Listen, we all have had it up to 270

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here with this wild goose chase! What are we really going to find at Vega? More gas planets? Barren rocks?” He hesitated a bit. “Monsters? At least back at Earth, it’s more familiar. We can somehow assimilate back into society. The general said he’d help somehow. I’m sure there’s plenty of money left from the late Ted’s coffers,” he finished with a sneer. Travis got up from his seat in the entertainment room and partially pushed himself past Henry, wagging a threatening finger at Fred. “You watch it with my brother, asshole.” “Assh…” Fred began to move towards Travis, as Travis pushed past Henry–who got squashed up against the bulkhead–to get to Fred. Basil leaped out of the alcove and stopped the two. “Hey! Stop it you two! It’s only four more days…” “Fuck four more days,” Fred screamed, the veins sticking out of his neck. “We’re all sick and tired of this god-damned journey we’re stuck on, and we want to go back now!” Henry regathered himself and looked at Fred. “Listen. I know it’s been hard. We’ve all had to suffer through…” “Suffer? Suffer?” He narrowed his eyes. “And where’s your wife right now? Huh?” Henry looked queerly at Fred, having not fully understood the pain he was going through up until now. Pain. That was what he had seen in Fred’s eyes earlier. Pain…and what else? He tried to salvage the situation. “Look, there’s still a good chance–” “No. No more chances.” He backed away and opened the door to the cabin he was sharing with two other people. “Your failure is complete. Complete.” He stepped in and slammed the door. The people stood and stared for a while. Slowly, one by one, they all went into their cubicles, some of them sending mean glares at Henry. Travis trudged back into the common room, and the door slid quietly behind him. Soon, only three people were left in the passageway: Basil, Henry and Harry. Basil shrugged and shook his head in dismay. “I need to get back to work, and see if I can get the recycling units to filter a bit more efficiently.” He made his way to the narrow ladderwell, and climbed down into the engineering spaces. A sound of a hiss was heard–the hatch into engineering–then heard again, followed by a slight click. 271

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Henry sighed deeply, feeling totally burned out. He slumped to the floor and rested his head on his knees. Harry stood at the other end of the passageway, having observed the whole incident. The two stayed there in silence for a while. Finally, Harry asked, “You gonna be all right?” Henry sighed again, just barely able to hold down the tears of frustration. “You know, when we first started on this trip, I looked out at the blackness of space and for the first time I felt panic. Not when we had that accident with the prototype in the Nevada desert, not when the military and the FBI were hot on our tails at Orton, not when we rescued the Pioneer from Area 51, but once we were ready to go on our way. I couldn’t understand it then, but I think I’m beginning to understand it now.” He shuddered and sighed. “I am so very tired. And you know what’s really scary?” He looked up at Harry with weary eyes. “I think I’m beginning to side with Fred. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Harry smiled warmly. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing fine. Personally, I’m impressed you’ve been able to handle everything that has happened so far. I think the thing Fred doesn’t understand is that when you command a ship, not only do you have your own problems to deal with, but you have everybody else’s. If someone is hurt, you’re hurt. Et cetera. Most people don’t understand the awesome responsibility of command. But you do…and you’ve had to learn it the hard way.” Henry nodded numbly. He struggled and picked himself up off the floor. “I need to sleep. If Vega doesn’t pan out, we’d be heading back to Earth, anyway, by way of 61 Cygnus. And that’s a fairly cool star, so I’m not putting too much hope on it.” He sighed again. “What a waste, to come this far to have nothing.” “Don’t give up hope yet, Henry.” Harry stood there in silence for a while. “You go get some sleep. You look like the walking dead.” He smirked. Henry forced a smile. “Thanks. I think I will. I was heading that way anyway until…that incident.” He walked to the other end of the passageway, past Harry, and opened his cabin door. He looked one last time at Harry. “Good night.” “You mean, good morning.” He grinned. Henry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He stepped in and closed his door. 272

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--Three hours later. Henry suddenly jolted upright in bed. What the hell is making that racket? He looked at the panel next to the tiny television screen and saw red “A” and “C” lights flashing. Listening more closely, now that the fog of sleep was leaving him, he realized the noise he heard was the klaxon of a fire alarm. “Shit!” He leaped out of bed, almost afraid of bumping Sarah hard on the underside. She was no longer in her bunk, however. He tried turning on the light, but the light did not come on. He stumbled around in the near dark (the red alarm lights were the only thing illuminating the cabin) for his coveralls. Finding them and a pair of fire retardant boots and gloves, he donned his gear as quickly as possible and dashed out into the passageway. The passageway was dark, except for the flashing red lights that made the tendrils of smoke seem to glow red. The smoke rolled up from the hatch that lead to engineering. A sinking feeling grew in Henry’s stomach. People milled about the passageway, dumbstruck. He saw his son, a young toddler, amongst the group. “Someone get Junior back into his room! And everyone…out of the passageway so we can take care of this,” Henry yelled out. He turned and headed to the bridge, where he saw Scott and Lex, working in a frenzy to manage damage control from the bridge. A couple people stood next to his friends, carrying flashlights. Occasionally, the ship’s lighting would come on, flicker, then go dead again. Henry quickly glanced out the window. The ship was no longer in hyperspace. “What happened?” Scott looked at Henry in bewilderment. “The recycler…it was sabotaged.” Henry’s eyes widened in amazement. “What?” “That Fred…he…” Henry wheeled around and left Scott in mid-sentence. He headed towards the engineering ladderwell and started down. Shouts came from below, where a fire team was trying to remediate the damage. He got to the bottom to be cast in the midst of pandemonium. Bright yellow flames licked out from behind a unit, and Henry thought he could have seen some legs 273

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sticking out from underneath the unit. Basil? Why would he have been under the recycler? No, he saw Basil directing the fire team, who had a charged CO2 line, blasting away at the flames. “Basil!” he yelled. “Henry!” Basil pushed his way past the fire team. “We may have to evacuate engineering and void the compartment. Fred really messed us good.” “Well…do it!” “Right.” Basil whipped around. “Everyone out! Now!” He grabbed a nearby lever painted red and black and pulled hard. A loud horn wailed from above. “Move it! You got sixty seconds before you’re space debris! Go!” Basil moved out of the way, with Henry nearby, and let the fire team evacuate. After Basil had accounted for everyone, he yelled, “Henry! Let’s go! We’ve only got a few seconds.” Henry hurried after Basil. Once in the ladderwell, Basil turned around and activated the door. It immediately slammed home. Basil then looked at the “EMERGENCY ONLY” panel and slammed on the glass. He reached within the shards and pulled the lever. There was a clunk, and the sound of something sucking could be heard from the other side. Henry turned to Basil. “Where’s Fred?” Basil stared dumbfoundedly at the fire barrier. “In there. Dead.” “Dead?” Henry frowned. Basil nodded slowly. “He pulled the wires out of the recycler and fried himself. The recycler, too. I’m afraid to find out what other damage he caused in the process. It was enough to cause us to lose electrical power, too. When he shorted the recycler, the breakers thankfully opened before the energy spikes could take out even more valuable equipment. And to top it all off, he vented most of our water supply.” “What?” Henry felt his knees go weak. “How…weren’t you on watch?” Basil shook his head sadly. “Yeah, I was. Thought my relief was coming down the ladder. I turned around just in time to get brained.” He showed Henry the welt. The fire alarm suddenly stopped sounding, indicating that the fire was out. Basil looked at the status panel nearby. “Yeah…the fire’s out. The metal’s still hot in there, though, so I’ll let it sit for a while. Damn it. And the recycler 274

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is right next to the primary MAMPS fuel conduit. If that thing’s damaged, we’re totally screwed.” Henry dreamily stared at the floor. “Your failure is complete.” Basil looked at Henry in concern. “What?” Henry looked up at Basil. “That’s what he said earlier this morning. He meant to screw us, Basil. Now we only have, what? Reserve water?” Basil nodded glumly. “And reserve air. Don’t know how much yet, but I’ll let you know.” The two stood in the dark, cramped ladderwell for several minutes, until a bell went off on the status panel. Basil looked at it, then pressed a button. Another clunk, then a hissing sound. Then one last bell. The door released and opened. Black scorch marks went up the bulkhead near the recycler. Basil went in, looked at the mess and sighed. He turned to Henry. “I really should be alone for a while. There’s nothing you can do here, so get some sleep. I’ll let you know the status later, okay?” Henry nodded. He pressed the closing mechanism and the door closed gently. Henry then numbly climbed up the ladder, back to his cabin, and crawled into bed, not bothering to take his fire gear off. Sarah was back on her rack. She rolled over and looked down at Henry. “How bad is it?” The lights suddenly came on, making Henry squint. He remembered that he left the switch on. He climbed back out of his bunk and flipped the switch off, explaining to Sarah what happened. “Pretty bad. The recycler’s all but destroyed, and the primary fuel conduit may be damaged. If that conduit is damaged, we cannot run the MAMPS, and we’re stuck in space. We’d have to release our reserve satellite transmitter and hope we can contact Homestation. Even then, it’s doubtful that we’ll have enough water or air to survive. It’s a month and a half back to Earth. I don’t think they can build and launch a ship, and then get it here in only a few days.” Done with his summary of events, he fell back into his bunk. “Oh, God.” She rolled back over into her rack. Henry lay there in silence, the grim thought of their situation weighing on his mind. --1:15 P.M. 275

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Henry sat in the recreation room which doubled as a galley–of sorts. The people of the third watch rotation had finished their rations (some electing to just take their meager portions to their cabins), and Henry sat there, alone, staring at the dry and compacted cake of…whatever it was. He pushed it around with a finger. Basil came in. He looked at the poor excuse for a meal in front of Henry and grimaced. “Mmm. Rations. Boy, how I love rations.” He smirked in irony. “Hmph.” Henry looked up. “What’s the status?” “Fortunately, we still have warp capability. His damage was limited to the recycling units, and it may not be that bad. It’ll take a few days for me to really figure out what to do.” Henry nodded, then looked back at his cake thing. “What did you do with the body?” “It was sucked out into space when we voided the compartment.” Basil frowned. “I didn’t think it concerned you that much. He did, after all…” “He’s still part of this ship. Was part of this ship.” “Was part of the Pioneer, Henry. I think that’s what helped to push him over the edge. That, and losing his wife to…whatever that thing was. That reminds me…” Basil pulled out a half-burned piece of paper from his coveralls. “I found this wedged between the main conduit and the MAMPS. Looks like Fred wrote it. Got burned in the fire and somehow managed to get stuck in a niche instead of floating out into space. Almost makes me think he stuck it there on purpose so that it wouldn’t be sucked away when we voided the compartment.” He handed it to Henry. Henry frowned as he tried to make out the writing. “Most of it is gone.” Basil nodded. “All I could get out of it was something about blaming you for everything. An odd thing at the bottom, though…” He pointed on the paper. Henry squinted at the barely readable writing. “He mentions the Pioneer and that he is sorry about something. Can’t really say what.” “Maybe he thought he was responsible for not warning them in time? He was on watch…” Basil shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “Could be. It’s pretty odd, though…how he blames you for everything, then says he’s sorry. For what, 276

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I don’t know.” He sighed. “Guess I should eat something.” Basil went over to the open box of rations and grabbed a foil-lined packet. He opened it and smelled it. “Mmm…seafood surprise. The surprise is what it’s really made out of.” He grinned. Henry managed to stir up a chuckle. “So…two or three days?” “Give or take.” He sat down and began to chew on the cake-like substance. He grimaced and almost gagged. “Damn…wish water wasn’t at such a premium now.” Henry nodded. “Can we activate the warp drive?” Basil said, “Sure. The sooner, the better. Maybe we’ll get lucky this time.” “Maybe.” Henry grunted as he stood up. “I’ll go tell the bridge crew to get us going.” He stopped before he left the rec room, and frowned. Basil stopped in mid-chew. “What’s that?” Loud voices came from the passageway. Henry’s chest tightened. “Whatever it is, it can’t be good.” He opened the door to the passageway. Almost half of the ship’s passengers were in the hallway, several of them shouting. “…that fucking Fred deserved every bit of what he got!” one person shouted. The recipient, whom Henry recognized as one of the people Fred stayed with, shouted right back. “He was my friend! Don’t you even think of dissing him like that!” “Why the fuck not? He’s nothing more than a murderer!” “What are you insinuating?” “I’ll bet he locked the Pioneer’s airlock, so nobody could come back in. It would suit him!” “You asshole! He’d never hurt a fly!” “Then explain why he dumped almost all our water, Ger!” another person shouted. “He killed us all!” “Now hold on a sec–” Henry started, but he never got to finish his sentence. Ger and the individual immediately flew at each other, knocking three others into the bulkhead in the process. Those three individuals then turned on Ger and his intended target, which meant there were now five in the fray. The first person Henry saw shouting then leaped on Ger. “Stop it!” Henry hollered. Wham! A flying elbow caught him in the side 277

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of the head, and he saw stars. When his vision cleared, he was up against the bulkhead, himself. He saw Scott peer out of the bridge, then immediately close the hatch when someone went careening towards him. Basil had just stepped over Henry to try to break up the fight, but it was a little too late. The fight had turned into a full-scale riot. Henry got up on to his feet to immediately have to dodge a swinging fist. “Worthless, so-called leader!” the man shouted. Psff! The assailant’s eyes went wide and he jiggled a bit before falling on the floor. Everyone stopped. Scott stood at the hatchway to the bridge, pointing a disruptor down the hallway. Travis was right next to him with a disruptor of his own. “Next asshole to step out of line gets to feel what it’s like to get this at a much higher setting. Savvy?” Everyone lowered their fists. Travis’s face was stretched tightly in barely-controlled rage. “Good. Get back into your cabins. All of you. Nobody comes out until watch. I’ll personally be delivering your so-called meals when the time comes. That’s right, you are all confined to quarters. Anyone who strays without Scott, Henry or me giving you permission is going to get it straight up the ass. Now get in!” One by one, the people crept into their cabins and quietly closed their doors. Henry felt around on the side of his head, where he had been hit by the elbow. No blood, but it was starting to swell. He walked towards the bridge. “Thanks, g…” “Save it,” Scott snapped. “This has become intolerable. A fucking riot? Do you have any idea what the next step is, buddy? Think about your son before you make your next decision about what this ship does. Compredez?” He pointed down the passageway. Henry turned to see his son peering out of one of the children’s cabins. All he could see was an eye and part of a face, but the eye was as wide as a saucer. Basil was still down by the rec room, also looking towards Junior. “Go tend to your son,” Travis calmly stated. “We’re all going to have to have a talk about the future in a bit.” Scott simply grunted in agreement. The hatch to the bridge slid closed. 278

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Henry sighed, and propped himself up against the bulkhead, trembling. Sarah finally opened the door and looked at Henry. She, too, was pale as a ghost. “You okay?” Henry started to nod, but then shook his head instead. “Junior.” He beckoned to the boy, but he went back into his cabin and slammed the door, instead. “Shit.” Both Henry and Sarah strode down the passageway and barged into the cabin. One other youth was up in the top bunk, staring down at everyone. Junior was curled up against the far bulkhead, staring at his parents. “Son,” Henry started. “I don’t want you to get a space!” “Get a space?” Henry didn’t quite understand the comment, but it didn’t sound good. “Yeah,” Junior sniffed. “A couple guys were talking about you getting a space.” “You mean spaced?” Sarah almost shrieked. The boy nodded. Henry crouched down and pulled his son to him. “Who said that?” The boy gestured directly across the passageway, to where Ger and his cabinmate stayed. Sarah immediately bolted out of the room and marched towards the bridge. “Son, nobody’s going to do anything to me. Okay? Everything will be fine. Just stay in here and watch one of the children’s movies, all right?” “Again?” he whined. “Yes, again.” Henry smirked. “Or you and Tommy can play a game.” He gestured to one of the board games underneath the lower bunk. “Oh, all right,” he said, resigned. Henry gave his son one last big hug before leaving the cabin. When he came out, Scott was stomping down the passageway with Sarah in tow. Scott was frowning. He pointed to the rec room door, indicating that’s where he wanted Henry to go. Henry led the way into the rec room. Once Scott and Sarah were inside, the door slid closed. Scott typed a code at the door panel to lock the door. He turned to Henry. “Sarah just told me what your son said,” he said matter-of-factly. 279

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Henry nodded. “It’s okay.” “No, Henry, it is not,” both Scott and Sarah said, simultaneously. “Dude,” Scott continued, “this is about as serious as it gets. Someone threatening your life? It doesn’t get much more serious than this.” “We’re just three days out of the Vega system. Something will pan out.” “Uh, huh. How often have you said that to those passengers out there?” Scott folded his arms. “At least two dozen times in the past month. You’re sounding like a broken record.” “Hon,” Sarah interrupted, “we’re just concerned about your safety, that’s all.” Henry raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going with this?” “I’ve been thinking about keeping you locked up, too,” Scott answered. “For your own protection.” “I don’t need anyone’s protection,” Henry snapped. “I can look after myself.” “Oh, really, Mr. Golf Ball Cheek?” Scott fingered the welt on Henry’s face. “Look,” Henry finally said, trying to calm himself down. “They’re all just high strung…” “Wonder why.” “…so all we need to do is find some way to take their minds off of things.” “Like what?” Scott raised an eyebrow. Henry shifted his stance. “Well, we’ll think of something. Besides, if you all did lock me up–for my safety–what do you think our passengers will think? What will that do to not just my authority, but to authority in general. People can start making threats left and right until all the command staff is locked safely in their cabins?” He shook his head. “You want to avoid a mutiny, we need to show strength. All of us.” Scott sighed. “You have a valid point. Still…” There was a knock at the door. “Son of a bitch.” He pulled out the disruptor from his pocket and unlocked the door. He pointed it and let the door open. “I thought I said…” “Hey,” Harry said. He looked down at the disruptor. “So, is that a disruptor in your hand or are you just happy to see me?”

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Scott stared blankly at Harry. “Uh…look, it’s not safe to be out and about.” “I’ll be fine. May I?” “Sure,” Henry immediately offered before anyone could object. “Thanks.” Harry stepped into the rec room. Scott closed the door behind him and locked it once again. “How you holding up, Henry?” Harry asked. “Poorly,” Henry replied. “Scott wants to confine me to quarters. For my safety.” “Well,” Harry scratched his bearded chin, “maybe people just need a release.” “Exactly what I was saying.” Harry nodded. “Trish has been writing a play in her spare time. Maybe people will want to participate?” “How are we going to hold a play?” Scott asked, frowning. “Unless you haven’t noticed, the ship’s a wee bit smaller than an auditorium.” “Do it like in the radio days.” “Come again?” Harry gestured to the intercom next to the door. “Have them read their parts into the intercom, and have it broadcasted throughout the ship. Just like in the olden days, before television.” The others looked at each other as they thought about Harry’s suggestion. “Don’t think that’s going to change peoples’ minds,” Scott noted. “About going home? Probably not. But, we do only have three or so days left to the Vega system. I’m sure a break in the monotony would help at least some.” Scott nodded. “Sounds logical. Henry?” “I’m for it. I’d give everyone a few hours to cool off before you go looking for volunteers, Harry.” “Sure thing. I’ll let Trish know. We can hold the play the day before Christmas Eve.”

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XV December 25, 2008. (359.2008) Just after midnight. Smack! “Ow! Damn it!” “What is it now, Basil?” Henry reclined a bit on one of the engine cooling units. He looked towards a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a large piece of equipment. “Banged my hand against one of the open panels,” he replied. Quiet for a while, then, “I don’t think I can get the atmospheric or water recycling units back online. It’s way too damaged from the fire, too clogged with the carbon and other residue it removed from the waste air and water, and I can’t get some of the circuits ungunked.” He rolled out from underneath a large module, brushed himself off, and stood up. “I don’t know what to do.” “Ungunked.” Henry nodded. “Well, with the reserves and the ‘greenhouse,’ how much air do we really have left?” Basil nursed his banged hand for a bit. “Enough to get to the Vega system, at best. Those plants in the hydroponics compartment may be able to handle ten people, tops, but not fifty. That, and the reserve oxygen tanks are almost completely empty. It doesn’t look very good.” “Maybe we should head home,” Gary noted. He leaned against the forward hatch and sighed. “Yeah, but do you know what that means?” Gary nodded. “I do. I spoke to Martin, the doctor, about it. We’d have

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to freeze everyone but a skeleton crew for however long it takes to get us home. Cryogenics is a very shaky field, and Martin only knows a little about it. It never has been proven to be effective for as long as we would need it for.” He sighed. “I’d hate to be the person to break that news to this crew. Especially after that riot.” Henry straightened himself up and walked to the atmospheric unit. “Well, if the Vega system doesn’t pan out, our other option is to hope that we can find a planet there on which we can at least replenish our supplies of oxygen and water.” Basil nodded. “The only problem is, we’d only be able to accumulate enough oxygen for about thirty to fifty days…just enough, perhaps, to get home and maybe a little more. I’d make air out of water, if I could.” “I don’t think this crew would want anything other than to go home, right now,” Gary noted. “So enough water and air to get home would have to suffice.” The three stood around in silence for a while, staring at the deck. Finally, Gary asked, “How’s Junior handling all this?” Henry sighed. “He’s still quite young. He doesn’t fully understand everything that’s happened here, but he knows we’re in trouble. He’s a trooper. He’ll be all right…as long as we can find someplace to land.” Gary nodded. “I wonder about everyone else, though.” “Well, Harry’s little idea seemed to take the edge off, somewhat,” Basil offered. “It was the first time I saw anyone smile in, oh, weeks. So we’ve got that going for us. Ger and his cabin mate, Dennis, still seemed quite surly.” He shot Henry a warning glance. “Scott told you?” Henry referred to the threat Ger and Dennis had made in front of his son. “Yep. I’d be surprised if the whole ship didn’t know by now. Not hiding was probably the best thing you could’ve done. Sent a message of strength to the crew.” A tone came from the intercom overhead, then a voice. “Henry, this is Lex. We’re decelerating to enter the Vega system. You may want to come up here…I know how important this stop is.” “Alright, I’ll be up there in a bit.” The intercom clicked, signaling the intercom had been turned off. 283

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Basil scratched his head. “Well, this is it.” Henry nodded. They all stood there for a while, staring at each other. “I guess I’d better get up there,” Henry said. “Good luck.” Butterflies fluttered in Henry’s stomach. Too much rode on this star system. He felt like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Henry fought down the sense of panic and pressed the release mechanism on the hatch. The hatch slowly slid open, and Henry stepped through, into the ladderwell. He climbed up the ladder and entered the main passageway. He looked aft and saw some people playing cards. They stopped to look at him, the now-standard hollow look in their eyes. Henry cleared his throat and turned away. He noticed his hands were wet from nerves, so he wiped them on his coveralls, getting them greasy instead. He mumbled to himself and shuffled forward to the cockpit. He looked up, ready to open the hatch, and he noticed Harry standing nearby. “Hello,” he said to Harry. “You seem troubled.” “For good reason.” Henry sighed. “I’m starting to wonder if we have a chance. I’m starting to wonder.” He flopped against a wall and sighed. “I really am having my doubts. If this next system doesn’t pan out…we may have to try to place people in cryogenic freeze just to have a chance of making it back to Earth alive. If only Fred hadn’t…I…I don’t know.” Harry nodded, then put his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I know this is hard for you, but you cannot give up hope. Remember: you have undergone many trials in this lifetime, all of them perfectly designed for this undertaking. You have been trained for it, and despite your opinion, you can do it. At any rate, it is God’s will, and you cannot refute it. The fate of humanity depends on this.” A sound of humming came in, faintly, familiarly, in the background. Henry squinted at the man before him, and felt that something was…unusual. He felt like his body was swirling–he could not say why. The humming gradually became louder. Henry realized that no machine on the ship could make this sound, as far as he knew. Something seemed very oddly familiar… “Who are you?” 284

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Harry moved his hand from Henry’s shoulder. “A friend.” He turned from Henry and walked back to his cabin, turned the door knob, and stepped in. The door shut with a click. Henry stood where he was for a little while, blinked a few times, then remembered where he was going. He turned to the hatch that lead into the cockpit. He pressed the release mechanism there and stepped back to wait for the hatch to open. The hatch slowly slid open, and the watch team inside turned around to see who it was. When they saw Henry, they blandly turned back around to their stations. Henry stepped in. “Status.” Lex spoke. “Okay, we’re about 30 seconds until we’re on the edge of the Vega system. Scanners indicate planets, but we cannot tell much more than that from here. We will need to get above the star, as usual.” Henry nodded. He pressed the intercom button. “Basil, is Gary still back there with you?” “Yes, he is. Are we there yet?” “Almost. We’ve just about reached the edge of the system. I need him up here pretty soon…it will only be a minute or so until we’re in a prime spot to make a quick survey of the system.” “I’m on my way!” Gary interrupted. Henry shut off the intercom and sat in the captain’s chair. He crossed his legs, leaned back, and breathed out loudly. “Stat…never mind.” The watch team remained silent. The watch team and Henry sat in silence for what seemed like hours. They shot past a planet, but the phenomenon had lost its appeal. The star of Vega loomed ever closer, growing bigger and brighter. Scott pressed a few buttons. The star disappeared below the nose of the craft. Eventually, the readout above the pilot registered no velocity. Gary walked in. “Sorry I’m late. Are we there yet?” Henry nodded. “Yes. We’re about five million miles above the planetary plane. The star Vega is directly below us.” Gary nodded. He walked over to the GEOCOM and turned it on. He sat down and waited for the computer to warm up, then began typing. He sat a little longer and waited for the computer to gather all its necessary 285

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information. “Okay, here goes.” He pressed a button, and the onceinteresting three-dimensional display appeared overhead. “Okay. It seems there are eleven planets in the system. The computer is still gathering data on each planet.” Slowly, information printed above each of the planets, giving what details it could. “I don’t believe it,” Gary commented. Henry’s heart lurched, wondering if Gary’s comment bode good or ill news. “What? What is it?” “I have at least traces of oxygen on five planets. One of them is way too cold…it appears to be liquid oxygen. The other four may sustain life. We’d have to individually check each one to be sure.” “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while. What’s the likelihood of the other four being able to sustain life?” “Hold on…” Gary punched some more keys on the GEOCOM, then turned around to observe the new data surrounding four of the planets. “Vega 3 may have the best chance of sustaining life, because I get a notable reading of water, as well. It appears that, since it is rather close to the star, it may be rather warm there. I’d give it an 80% probability. Vega 4 is next, with a 60% probability. It seems to have less oxygen than Vega 3. In fact, it seems to have the third most amount of any of the planets, so that is not a good thing. However, it has traces of water and nitrogen, so life might already be there. Vega 5 is the least likely, with a probability of 25%. It has some oxygen, but less than Vega 4. I see no evidence of water there. Vega 6 appears to be a good bet, with a probability comparable to Vega 4. It is almost 2.5 astronomical units from the star, so it may be too cold there, but it has a notable amount of water and the second most amount of oxygen of any of the other planets. Of course, there’s no way to be sure without actually going to each planet. Vega 3, of course, is the closest, so we should head there first.” “Noted. Scott, set a course for Vega 3,. Lex…set us up for the flight.” Henry said. “Understood.” Lex pushed forward on the yoke and twisted it, as Scott typed in the course into the navigation console. The stars dipped and twirled in the cockpit viewports as Lex moved the levers that controlled sublight 286

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speed. Once Lex had the ship pointing right, Scott engaged the drive. Soon the familiar phenomenon with light began. “Okay, we’re moving at 1x. It will take us only a few minutes or so to get to Vega 3,” Scott reported. “Noted.” Henry leaned back in the chair and waited. The threedimensional view overhead hung silently as the ship pressed on. As the bridge crew sat in silence, watching the mottling before them, Henry silently wished the ship to move faster. His heart hammered in his chest. As far as Henry could remember, his heart had been hammering for several days now. He hadn’t eaten all day, and despite the rumbling in his stomach, he had no desire to eat, either–both out of the dislike of the ration, and out of nerves. After a couple minutes, Scott disengaged the drive, and the ship came out of warp speed. He pressed a few buttons, and the ship stopped. Lex then twisted the yoke, and the milky white atmosphere of Vega 3 suddenly leaped up from under the nose and into view. Scott made an announcement. “I’ve disengaged the drive and put the EM engines online.” Henry nodded, his heart quickening the tempo. “This doesn’t look too promising.” “Just hold your horses, there.” Gary turned back to the GEOCOM and pressed some buttons. The 3-D view changed and a perfect facsimile of the planet ahead appeared. Some data appeared next to it. Gary studied it intently. “Yes! Yes! This planet can sustain life!” The entire crew breathed a massive sigh of relief. “Thank God,” Scott said. “For the longest while, I though we would have to…” “No, I guess we won’t be needing Doc’s magic for a while,” Henry interrupted, his heart slowing to a canter. “Things are looking much better. Gary, what is it like down there.” “Okay. It appears that there is six percent water vapor in the atmosphere, twenty-three percent oxygen, sixty-three percent nitrogen, and four percent carbon dioxide, with some trace gasses. The planet is fairly large–about 1.3 times the size of Earth–but the estimated pressure of the atmosphere at sea level is only about 0.8 atmospheres, since there is not as much nitrogen in the air. My guess is that the planet is very hot, due to all the steam. This means, 287

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however, that there is air down there, as well as water.” Gary pushed another button on the GEOCOM. “Okay, the GEOCOM estimates the temperature on the surface could range anywhere from 80 F to 200 F. At temperatures above 120 F, our staytime outside would be very limited. It would be like walking into a steam bath…or a steam cooker.” “Six percent water vapor?” Henry questioned. “Can we breathe that?” Gary nodded. “Won’t be too comfortable, but we should be fine, with limited exposure.” Scott idly made a morbid comment. “Wonder if it’s too hot for Bigfoot. I don’t want to have to face something like that again.” Gary shook his head as he looked at the readout. “The cloud cover, combined with the heat of the planet, makes it very difficult to pick up life signs. I imagine whatever is alive on that planet is probably marine.” “So we stay away from the ocean, then. I can handle that,” Scott quipped. Henry nodded. “I don’t think we have much of a choice here. We need water.” Then, back on the original topic, “ How turbulent is the atmosphere?” Gary pushed another button. “Not very. The atmosphere appears fairly stable. That is kind of odd. I suspect, therefore, that there is not much in the way of land, and/or the temperature on the surface is very evenly distributed. My guess is that the temperature is evenly distributed. All that white stuff you see before you,” as he motioned towards the planet outside, “are water clouds. Dense clouds. I don’t foresee any major problems entering the atmosphere, except for navigating through the clouds, which could prove turbulent, simply due to the increased friction with the water vapor of the clouds. Finding a spot to land…now, that’s a different story.” “Well, we can try the next planet, I suppose.” Henry pressed the button on the intercom. “Basil, how much air do we have left.” Basil responded. “None. We’re breathing our own waste right now.” Henry nodded solemnly. “Very well.” He turned off the intercom. “I guess we have to risk it. Can you make a guess where land may be, Gary?” “Hmm.” Gary turned back to the GEOCOM and typed. He turned back around and observed the image of the planet. Several red, yellow and green blotches appeared on the image. “Green blotches indicate the more likely locations of land, according to the GEOCOM sensors. Red indicate the least likely locations, and yellow is in between. Where there are no blotches, don’t 288

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go at all. I suggest trying that one, near the north pole.” Gary pointed to a large green blotch near the top of the image. “Very well. Lex, move us in.” “Aye.” Henry pressed a button on the intercom panel. “Ladies and gentlemen. We are going to attempt to land on the planet Vega 3 and refill on oxygen and water. Please fasten your harnesses. Lex, please take us in,” commanded Henry. Lex nodded. He flipped a switch and pulled back on the throttle. The electromagnetic engines came online and the ship began to shake and shudder as it entered the outer atmosphere. Within an instant, the exterior began to heat up. “I hope we don’t fry,” Scott stated. “We won’t…as long as we take it nice and easy,” Henry answered. “Take it nice and easy, Lex.” Lex wiped some sweat off his brow. “I am. I am.” The ship began to pitch violently as it entered a cloud bank. “Clouds? This high up?” Henry asked. Gary nodded. “I forgot to mention that. Since there is so much water vapor, it has managed to push itself up well into the stratosphere and higher.” “Lovely. Take it a bit slower there, Lex.” “I’m one step ahead of you,” Lex responded, as he moved some more levers. The engines began to make more noise, then they whined as they tried to reduce the speed of the ship. “We’ve slowed to three hundred miles per hour. It’s going to take a while to get to our destination.” “That is fine,” Henry said. Almost half an hour passed. Eventually, Gary said, “Okay, keep a close lookout for land.” The crew peered out the cockpit windows into the murky atmosphere of the planet. Scott said, “All I can see is blasted fog! I don’t see any land!” “Me, either,” Lex agreed. He was notably nervous. “No, wait…Look ahead,” Henry stated. “It looks like the clouds are clearing…” A dark gray hillside loomed up before them. “Jesus Christ!” Lex yanked back hard on the yoke. Those that forgot to 289

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fasten their harnesses fell out of their seats. Scott banged his head against a console and cursed violently. “I hate fog banks!” He climbed into his chair and strapped himself in. Henry gathered himself off of the floor and sat back down in the captain’s chair, this time making sure he was properly secured. “Ugh. That was not pleasant. Gary, I take it that was your piece of land.” Gary nodded sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. Radar indicates that there is a plateau just beneath us. We’ll need to make another pass at the land mass. I think it is flat enough to land on.” Lex gulped. “I hate landing in fog. You do realize that this is going to be very tight.” Henry nodded. “Well, we don’t have much choice. Turn her around and begin landing sequence.” He pressed a button on the intercom. “People, assume crash positions, just in case. This is going to be very bumpy.” “Not like it isn’t already,” Scott commented. “Heh.” Henry turned off the intercom. “Okay. We’ve turned around and I’m descending now,” Lex reported. Gary nodded as he tuned the radar next to the GEOCOM. “Okay…a little lower…I think we’ve got a hundred feet to go down.” Land suddenly appeared in front of them. “Agh!” Lex pulled back on the yoke, and the wheels of the craft hit hard on the ground. Henry clutched his chest. “Or not,” Gary corrected. Henry relaxed. “Good grief, Gary!” “Sorry. I think that was the water below when I scanned our height. We must have just passed over a cliff or something.” Lex pulled back on a lever, and the engines whined loudly. The ship bounced and jerked everywhere. Eventually, the ship stopped with one last lurch. Lex powered down the electromagnetic engines. “Thank God that’s over with,” Scott commented. He took a quick peek at the mock-up. There were no red lights. He let out a sigh of relief. Henry said, “Yeah. Okay. Scott, go aft and assemble a survey team, once Gary gets a full analysis of what’s out there. Gary…give me a full analysis of what’s out there.” “Got it,” Gary said. 290

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Scott unstrapped himself and got up. “Y’know, Gary…I hope that thing of yours will let us know more in advance if there’s something nasty out there…” “Like the swamp monster,” Henry absentmindedly said. Scott gaped. “Henry! You saw what that thing…” Henry motioned to Scott to calm down. “Hey, I know…I know. I was chased by that thing, remember? I was just trying to lighten the mood.” “Yeah!” Lex interjected. Gary shook his head through the whole comedic tirade. “Okay, okay. I did tweak the GEOCOM. There’s no way to know for sure just how much more input it can get from our sensors. It was pretty damn accurate with where to land this thing, right?” “In spite of the fact we almost crashed?” Scott jibed. Gary shrugged a bit. “Well…uh…it was Lex’s fault.” Lex quickly swiveled around. “Hey!!” “Just kidding, Lex. Seriously. There should be nothing to fear out there. It can pick up a rat within one mile.” “Those lab rats or those giant, mutant sewer rats?” Scott asked. “Okay, come on,” Henry interrupted. “Gary…what is out there?” Gary turned around and continued what he had been doing before. After about a minute, “Well…nothing. It’s hot, it’s steamy, it’s sterile. There seems to be some forms of vegetation on the rock plateau, but that’s it. I’ll need a few more minutes to know for sure.” Henry nodded. “Scott, go get ready to take a team out and check out the area.” Scott hesitantly made his way out of the cockpit. “If I die, I’m never speaking to you all again.” The door closed behind him silently. --“What do you have, Gary?” “I doubt like hell that there are any bacterium out there.” Gary noted. Henry nodded. “Viruses? Poisonous gas? What?” Gary typed some more. “Nothing. The air is quite clean…although hot. I’m registering 125 F. Heat index is 151 F. It’s the steam bath from hell.” 291

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Henry cringed. “Okay.” He pushed a button on the intercom panel. “Scott, have the survey team suit up in environment suits. The air is fine, but it will be too hot to go out there for any extended period of time without them on.” “Understood. I have my team ready. Basil has some of his assistants ready for replenishment. He’s getting ready to activate the desalination system now. It will be awhile…and Basil informs me that we will only be able to get enough water and air to last us long enough to explore the system…and head home. That’s all he’s going to promise.” “I understand. Good luck.” Henry turned off the channel to Scott. He then made a general announcement. “Okay, everyone, we’re here. Not to stay, though. One word of caution: it is a balmy 125 degrees out there. I strongly recommend that you only stay outside long enough to stretch your legs, no more. Leave once the planetary survey team has left the main airlock, then the rest can leave one at a time. Set your watches for ten minutes. That is all I will allow at one time.” He turned the intercom off. “Well…” Lex said. “Anyone up for a walk?” “Why not.” Henry stated. Travis shook his head. “No thanks. I’d like to stretch my legs, not par broil them.” Everyone else rose and moved to the access hatch to the main passageway. When it opened, they saw a very long line of people standing at the airlock. “Ugh,” Scott commented. “It’s going to be a while.” Henry nodded. “Well, we can cheat and go through the emergency hatch in engineering…” Travis chuckled. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” The group made their way to the ladderway down to engineering. When they came to engineering, they opened the access hatch, and a billow of hot steam rolled out. Henry and the rest stepped in and closed the hatch quickly. “Hello? What’s going on in here?” Basil stuck his head out of the secondary access. “Oh, hello. I was just getting some fresh air. Hot air, but fresh air.” He climbed out of the airlock and closed the hatch. 292

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Henry chuckled. “You’re letting the cold out.” Basil nodded. He threw the bridge crew some environment suits. He then started putting on his. “It’s quite hot out there. I won’t go out for long without it on.” They nodded, and began to don the suits. Once they got the suits on, Basil spoke. His voice sounded very mechanical. “Okay, everyone, here goes!” He activated the secondary air lock. The inner door swung open, and everyone crowded into the small chamber. The inner door swung shut. “Ugh. I feel like a sardine,” Travis noted. “Well, duh. I didn’t mean everyone into the airlock at the same time!” Basil said. He fiddled around for the access panel for the outer door. He finally found it and keyed in the access code. The door slowly swung open. Everyone peered outside. The atmosphere was like a primordial soup. Dark, thick fog swirled and danced about. The ground below appeared very rocky and wet, as well as quite slick. There was some vegetation here and there, sticking out of the cracks in the rock, soaking in the plentiful moisture. Basil was the first to leap out. “Thank God I’m out of that tin can,” he commented. He walked around a bit, then slipped and fell on his behind. “Ouch! Damn it!” “Watch your step!” Henry called out. “Yeah, thanks for the warning.” Basil got up and wiped himself off. The rest of the people carefully climbed out of the airlock down to the wet rock below. Basil started looking around the hull of the ship. “I’d better examine the ship and ensure that we didn’t break something upon Lex’s wonderful exhibition of landing skills.” Lex grunted at Basil. “I don’t think you could do any better.” Henry raised his hands. “C’mon, kids, behave.” Basil chuckled and walked around, examining the landing struts. He saw the survey team–the silhouettes of them, at any rate–off about fifty feet through the fog. He waved at them, but they didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t think they’ll see you through all this fog,” Henry stated. “Yeah, I suppose.” He returned to his inspection. “Gary, what do you make of all of this?” Henry asked. 293

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“Hmm.” Gary wandered around. He walked up to a plant and examined it a bit. He then stood up. “I’d say this planet is in its early stages of development or something. I’d say the heat from the star is keeping it in this primordial stage. The environment here is not too dissimilar from the early stages of Earth, but…” he looked around at the rocks, “the weathering of the bedrock and the rock itself indicates that this planet is probably older than one would first suspect.” Henry nodded. Gary continued. “I’d really like to see what Vega 4 looks like! It may be almost Earth-like. Of course, the GEOCOM didn’t indicate it one way or the other, since we haven’t got close enough yet, but if this planet has an earlyEarth atmosphere, Vega 4 may be more advanced, if it has ever been through these early stages. If not…well, my best bet would be Vega 6, in spite of its cool temperatures.” Henry nodded. “Well, did you notice which planet is nearest to this one right now?” “Yes. Vega 5. I’m not too interested with that planet, but it may prove to be revealing. The next closest is Vega 6. Vega 4 is one third of a revolution around the star Vega, and thus the furthest away.” Henry nodded. He sat on a nearby boulder. “So…what is it, then? Check out Vega 5 and 6 now, or take our chances with Vega 4?” The people discussed their options. “I think check out the next most likely while we’re here,” Travis stated. “Vega 6. We can probably pass by Vega 5 on the way there. If they don’t pan out, then we can try Vega 4. If that doesn’t work…” Henry nodded. “I know where you’re going with this. I’m afraid I finally have to agree.” Henry stood up and paced around. “If the weather atmosphere here wasn’t so…inclement, we could just make camp and have Basil take his time with the recycling units. But that is not an option. We can hope to find a spot to stay for a few months, but what good would that do? Just to end up loading back onto a ship and wander the galaxy for a few more months? I have to admit, I’m pretty tired of it, too. Are we agreed, then? If the Vega system doesn’t pan out, we head back to Earth…and turn this technology over to the US government. To the general, like we agreed. And hope for the best.” 294

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Everyone nodded. Travis spoke. “I have to say one thing, though. It seems like such a waste to have spent almost seven months in space, just to find a few hostile planets, one populated planet, and this sauna.” Henry nodded. “I know. But I don’t think we can go on much longer like this.” The people sat out on the hard rock for a while and thought quietly to themselves. Occasionally, some of the other passengers stopped by and shot the breeze until their ten minutes were up. After about an hour, Scott came up to the group. “Okay, Basil, we’ve got a full five thousand gallons of water…enough for fifty days if we’re careful. That should be enough for drinking water and oxygen generation.” Scott reported. “Good. Henry, that should be enough to get us around Vega and back home, with a few days to spare.” Scott hummed. “Guess that would cancel out 61 Cygnus, then. That’s about a sixty-day route if we stopped there on the way back to Earth.” Henry nodded. “Yes, it would seem that way. Okay, let’s get everyone back in for takeoff.” Basil, Henry, and the rest clamored back into the secondary air lock and closed the outer door. Soon, they were back inside, removing the environment suits. “Okay, let’s do it,” Henry said. --“Okay, Henry, there’s Vega 6,” Gary announced. A blue and white planet appeared overhead. The icecaps were unusually large, leaving only a narrow belt of blue and green at the equator. Henry made a plaintive sigh as he saw the frigid world before him. “Well, at least it’s better than Vega 5. What a wasteland that was!” “Yes, but it so far has been the most hospitable. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, had the right amount of elements in the air, and nothing dangerous to human life. It was just…too dry,” Gary stated. “It was a desert planet,” Scott said, with a bit of disgust. Henry nodded. “Precisely. So, how does this planet fare, Gary?” 295

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Gary typed at the GEOCOM. Data popped up near the image of the planet. “Okay. This planet, so far, is the most Earth-like. It is, however, considerably colder. The equator can support human life. The daytime temperatures there, however, apparently only reach 60 to 70 F. At night, who knows? The polar regions only reach -20 F at the poles, and the ice caps cover approximately half of the globe. Other than that, it is suitable.” Henry sighed–his whole body felt heavy. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. “Well…there’s still Vega 4.” “I agree,” Scott interjected. “I don’t think too many people will want to live like Eskimos in Alaska for the rest of their days.” “It is still an option.” “Yeah. I know I’d like to do the tango with Bigfoot’s frigid brother.” Scott folded his arms across his chest. “Scott, now’s not the time,” Henry reprimanded, although he couldn’t help have the same feeling of trepidation. Briefly, he could visualize a twenty foot tall ape with ice on its four horns instead of…“Damn it all. Scott, let’s head for Vega 4.” He cupped his head in his hand, fingers over his eyes. “Got it. It will take us twenty minutes at light speed.” Henry nodded. “Whatever.” --The shuttle came out of hyperspeed. Before them lay the vastness of space. “I don’t get it,” Gary mumbled. Henry didn’t like the sound of his voice. His stomach did a quick flop. “What don’t you get?” “Well, it was there, but now it isn’t.” Scott turned from his station, staring bug-eyed at Gary. “An entire planet is gone? Is that what you’re trying to tell us?” Gary shrugged and flipped a switch on the GEOCOM panel. A threedimensional display of local space appeared. Sure enough, there was no Vega 4.

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“God DAMN it!” Henry hollered, slamming his fist on the arm of the center chair. It made everyone jump. It was about as bad as it got for Henry. Over fifty people dying on him…seven months in space…and nothing to show for it. The intense weight of everything finally was making him crack. A string of profanities came from his mouth that even made Scott blanch. All the while, he jerked and twisted in his chair, barely restraining the urge to destroy everything in sight. After what seemed like an hour of Henry throwing a conniption, he settled down and glared out the forward viewport. There was no sense of vertigo, like at the beginning of the trip; nor of worry after leaving Altair. All that was left was a smoldering rage and a feeling like he had been cheated. “Fine,” he finally said. “Fuck it. Turn this piece of shit around and let’s go home.” Scott nodded quietly. Lex kept staring forward the whole time, adjusting the orientation of the shuttle for the trip back to Earth. The stars wheeled across the viewport. Nobody paid any attention to what was going on with the three-dimensional GEOCOM display. He threw the restraints, which had been hanging loosely over his shoulders, to the side so violently they sounded like something broke when they cracked into the floor. He got up and headed to the door. “Wake me when we get to Earth,” he growled.” Scott just responded with a grunt. Gary turned from the spectacle back to the GEOCOM, about to switch it off, when he did a double-take. “Hold on…” he weakly said. The door had just slid open. “What now?” came Henry’s seething reply. Gary gestured up to the display that hung just below the ceiling. Scott looked and gasped. It was at that point that Henry turned around. Something was showing on the display–something big. Slowly, the rage inside ebbed away as a bright blue and green planet rolled into view. “Holy shit!” Lex almost whispered. Vega 4 now loomed before them, perhaps only a few thousand miles away. “How,” Henry slowly started as he slinked back to his chair, “did we miss that?” He stared at the planet before him as he felt his way into the chair. “Uhmm…” Gary’s vocalization seemed to match the hum of the 297

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electromagnetic engines. “Blind spot, I suspect,” he finally offered. “Must’ve been directly behind us, awash in the radiation put out by the MAMPS. “Mm.” Henry crossed his legs and leaned back. The bridge crew sat in silence for a moment. “Well?” Henry finally prompted. “Right.” Gary started working at the GEOCOM, getting it to do its thing. The display of local space disappeared, and was replaced by a mesh rendering of the planet. Lex didn’t need to hear any order to know to move the ship towards the planet. “We’ll be in orbit in five minutes,” he said. Henry watched Gary expectantly the whole time–who was hammering away at the keyboard for the GEOCOM–and held his breath. Altair 3 had looked just as good, but it had turned out to be a nightmare. One more monster planet or populated planet, and the crew would go bonkers–again. In spite of the fact that what Fred had done was extremely unpopular and had essentially made the passengers support Henry more–with a couple exceptions–survival was foremost on everyone’s mind, regardless of allegiances. Fred had tried to eliminate that chance for survival…or, perhaps, make the crew of the Explorer take the next available planet, like it or not. The next available planet was now in view, and a 3-D mesh rendering hung suspended overhead like some wireframe ghost. Henry tapped his fingers on the armrest of the captain’s chair. “Well?” he asked, impatiently. “Hold on,” Gary said. He continued to type at the console, then examined the data. He hummed to himself. Henry continued to tap lightly on his armrest and dazedly stare out at another possible disappointment (Lex eventually said, “We’re there,” signaling their arrival into orbit). Gary interrupted Henry’s daze. “Okay. Looks good.” Henry’s heart lurched, knocking him out of his trance. His mind was having a hard time believing what he thought he just heard. “Huh?” Gary turned around and motioned to the hologram. “I said, it looks good. Twenty-one percent oxygen, seventy-three percent nitrogen, the rest is water vapor, carbon dioxide and a few trace gasses. Nothing overtly poisonous. No monster predators that we can’t prepare for. And, best of all, no signs of civilization or any intelligent life. There was one anomaly at a latitude of 30 degrees north, but the GEOCOM has it labeled as only a high 298

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concentration of some mineral, probably copper. If there was any form of civilization, it isn’t there anymore.” Henry furrowed his brow. “Still cause for concern.” Lex interjected. “Shall I…” “Go ahead, Lex,” Henry responded. He pressed a button on the intercom panel and spoke. “By now, I’m sure you are all wondering about our situation. We are currently preparing to enter the planet’s atmosphere. There appears to be no immediate threats like at Altair 3, nor does there seem to be any signs of either civilization or intelligent life. Let’s hope that it looks as good down there as it does up here. Prepare for atmospheric re-entry.” He turned off the channel, then pressed another button. “Basil, prepare to secure the MAMPS. We’re entering Vega 4’s atmosphere.” “Understood. MAMPS going off-line.” Henry turned the channel off. Lex pushed forward on the yoke and slid one of the levers. The ship immediately pointed towards the center of the planet and began its descent. “You want to land on that continent directly in front of us, Henry?” “Yes, please. Make a beeline for the nearest land. I’m sure we’re all anxious to get on the ground.” Henry swiveled towards Gary, who had removed himself from the GEOCOM station and was now gaping out the starboard cockpit window to the planet below. “Gary…Gary…” “Earth to Gary,” Scott announced. “Huh? Oh, what is it?” “I need you to keep a constant monitor on the atmosphere as we enter the planet. See what other information you can derive, as well…such as geological formations, biological signatures, and whatever else you can find.” “Got it.” Gary moved his way through the crowded cockpit back to the GEOCOM terminal and began typing away. The shuttle began to shudder and shake. More data displayed above and next to the hologram of the planet as the ship entered the atmosphere. Henry peered over the pilot’s head to the land below. It appeared to be on the very edge of dawn. “Is that where you are taking us, Lex?” Lex nodded. “It’s the closest. It looks pretty flat from here, as well. Gary?” “Hold on…” Gary punched some keys. “Okay, I’ve got a narrow-band 299

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beam locked onto the surface directly in front of us.” The planet disappeared from overhead and a wire-mesh section of landscape appeared in its place. “All right, then. Mean gravity appears it may be about 1.5 times that of Earth. Hmm. That way appears to be magnetic north.” He pointed to the top of the view. “It appears quite flat riiight about…here.” Gary pointed to a niche in the coastline, just north of a moderate-sized bay. “There’s minimal vegetation to get in the way, and the ground appears quite flat. There are some hills to the east, but we have enough room to maneuver. The planet’s jet stream suggests that the wind is currently blowing from the south.” “Sounds good to me. Henry, we will be landing from the north, then. That seems to be the best approach.” Henry nodded. “Very well. Just don’t go into the ocean.” Lex grunted and continued landing procedures. The ship flew through a cloud and shuddered violently. “Slow it down, there, Lex.” “Sorry, Henry.” The land grew closer and closer at a rather alarming rate. “Lex…” “Oh, right. I’m pulling up now to prepare for landing. It’s a little bit harder in the twilight. Don’t worry…I’ve done this before.” Henry leaned back in his chair and sighed. The dim landscape began to level out in the forward view, and the hologram shifted to match the horizon. “Okay, we’ll be on the ground in thirty seconds. It’s going to be bumpy!” Henry nodded. He pressed a button on the intercom panel. “Okay, folks, prepare for landing. I suggest bracing yourselves…this may be a bit rough. We’re landing on a grassy field, not smooth rock.” He turned the panel off. “All right, everyone, brace for impact. I don’t know how nasty this will be.” Everyone reached around their shoulders and produced harness straps. They buckled themselves in securely. Henry pushed down on the clip and the straps secured with a click. “How much longer?” “Ten seconds.” Lex pulled back on the yoke, and the nose of the shuttle pitched upwards just slightly. He pulled on a lever, and the engines whined noisily. The shuttle’s wheel struts smashed into the ground, jarring everyone on the ship. Sparks 300

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flew from one of the consoles. “Damn it, there goes the communications console.” Scott said, clutching his armrests tightly. Henry nodded slightly. The ship hit a large bump and sent some panels flying. One of them smacked Lex on the back of the head, sending him sprawling onto the yoke. The ship began to swerve around. “Shit!” Henry unbuckled himself, tripped, and saved himself from smacking into the deck by grabbing on to the back of Lex’s chair. He pulled Lex back and grabbed the yoke. “Scott, get the Doc up here.” The edge of the land could be seen coming swiftly towards the hurtling shuttle. Gary stammered. “Uh, Henry, there’s a cliff there…” “I know, I know!” Henry pulled further back on the throttle. The engines screamed and the ship rattled violently. The vessel hit something else and jerked to the right, towards the ocean. “Henry,” Scott said, clutching his armrests even tighter. “We’ve got quite a bit of forward momentum. Damn it, I told him to slow down more!” The engines continued to make a deafening whine, as they tried to stop the ship. The cliff loomed closer. “Fifty MPH…forty…” “Five hundred feet to the cliff,” Gary warned. The ship continued forward, slower now, until it stopped just short of the cliff. Out of the cockpit, all that could be seen was the dark ocean before them. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Henry’s legs were trembling so badly, he had to brace himself against Lex’s chair until he felt more steady. Scott unbuckled his harness and grabbed a panel latch. He twisted the latch and the panel sprung open, sending various objects hurtling to the deck. He snagged a first aid kit and rushed to Lex, pushing Henry out of the way. “Where’s the Doc?” Scott yelled. The access hatch in the aft wall began to open with a hiss. Henry went to the communications console and grabbed a fire extinguisher. “I don’t know.” The doctor squeezed his way through the still-opening hatch. “Right here, 301

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sorry. A few other people have been banged around.” Martin looked in Lex’s direction. “Oh, my…” He rushed over to Lex and examined the bloody wound. “This is not good. I’ll see what I can do.” He whistled and waved for two people at the access hatch to enter the cockpit. They entered, carrying a narrow yellow board between them. They carried it over towards Lex and the doctor. “Put him in, quick!” Martin ordered. The three grabbed Lex and placed him on the board. The two medics lifted the board up and gingerly carried it out through the access hatch. Martin went out behind them. Henry put the fire extinguisher away and flopped down in the captain’s chair. “Damn it, I told him…” Scott placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “It’s all right. He’ll be fine.” Scott looked aft, through the still-open access hatch, and watched the three men carry Lex to the infirmary. --Henry paced around command chair. Everyone else had left the bridge, except for Gary. “Well, what do you have?” He glanced towards the access hatch, hearing muffled voices. He was pretty sure everyone was in a hurry to get out of the shuttle, himself included. “It seems all right, Henry,” Gary answered. He typed some more at the GEOCOM. “So far, anyway. I haven’t found any pathogens yet and no creatures that could pose a threat but we need to give it more time. I think the landing knocked one of the main sensors loose, so I’m using the backup. It’s not as sensitive, so it takes longer.” Henry now peered out the cockpit window. The star Vega continued to rise to the east, and the sky turned into colors of bold blue, yellow and orange. Some large, puffy clouds passed overhead, colored peach from the rising sun. The intercom panel chirped. “Henry, this is Basil.” “Go ahead.” “Bad news. The landing broke some of the circuitry that controls the containment of the gravitons. It’s going to take quite a while to fix…maybe four months.” 302

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“Four months!?” “Well…I need to bypass the broken circuits and jury-rig some new ones, using scrap parts. I’ll be creating new components from scratch. I’m not sure how reliable they may be once I’m done. I’m digging around through some of the parts we brought to see what I can create. We really should’ve made a better tally of what we brought. I’m finding some stuff that’s not on the loadout log and missing other stuff we should have. Probably got packed into the Pioneer in our haste to escape the government.” Henry sighed. “Oh, very well. We probably need the time to set up the settlement, anyway, so don’t rush. That is…if there aren’t any dangerous creatures or pathogens out there…Gary…” “Give it time, give it time,” Gary continued on the GEOCOM. Henry continued. “Is there anything else, Basil?” “Yes. Everything else seems to be operating fine. I just ran a simulation on the EM engines, and they’re operational, so we can move around the planet…but we won’t be able to leave the solar system anytime soon. If push came to shove, we can try to make it to one of the other planets…if this one has those pathogens you seem so nervous about. But it’ll take much longer than just a few minutes. Days, if not weeks.” Henry cleared his throat. “Okay, sounds like we’ll just have to make do. Thanks.” “No problem.” The intercom clicked off. Henry took a seat in the captain’s chair and crossed his legs. Gary continued typing on the keyboard. After about ten minutes, Gary spoke. “Okay. I’ve got a breakdown on what exactly is in the atmosphere. There are some bacteria and other pathogens, but they are not that dissimilar from what we have on Earth. I think we can inoculate against them. I sent a summary to the Doc over our computer system. He’ll be able to tell us for sure.” Henry leaned forward and nodded, trying to see what was on Gary’s terminal screen. “Okay. So now what?” Gary shrugged as he turned around. “Now we wait for Martin.” Henry sighed and slumped back in his chair. He really didn’t want to wait any longer. He was quite confident nobody else did, either. But this was a necessary step. Should there be something out there the passengers of the 303

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Explorer couldn’t handle…Henry shuddered, trying to push that thought from his head. They had come close to failure–or disaster–several times before already. Why should things go wrong now, now that they’re on a seemingly suitable planet? Henry quickly wondered if the people of the Pioneer, in their haste to get out of the shuttle, bothered to go through these procedures? Gary watched as Henry tapped idly on the arm of the chair and stared out the forward window. “Nervous?” “Huh?” Henry jerked suddenly. Gary smirked. “Relax. What could go wrong?” But just as he said it, his smirked slipped away. Both turned as the hatch slid open. Martin walked in, his face carrying an odd, twisted expression. It did not give Henry good feelings. “So, what’s the story?” Henry finally asked the grim-faced physician. Martin turned to Henry, his face stony. Slowly, a smile cracked across his face. “Looks good to me. When do we get out of this flying trash can?” --The outer door to the main airlock opened with a hiss. It slowly swung open, and a ladder extended from beneath the opening. Henry stood at the top of the ladder, with the rest of the passengers behind him. Henry released his breath and breathed back in. He breathed out. He made his way down the ladder and stepped on to the soft soil. He made an announcement. “Well, we’re here.” Scott and Basil followed directly behind, along with Sarah and some of the other wives. The rest of the people began making their way down the ladder. They all looked around and saw what their new home looked like. The sun was beginning to set in the west. It was casting a beautiful orange glow on everything. A warm wind blew in from the sea, and everyone could hear its gentle melody in the tall grasses and smell its fragrance. Waves rolled gently on the rocky beach below–the sea was the color of a deep, rich blue. Small, summertime clouds passed overhead, glowing a salmon color in the late afternoon light. Over the eastern horizon, a greenish moon was beginning to rise. 304

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Scott made a comment. “Beautiful. Very beautiful. Almost idyllic.” He looked underneath the shuttle towards the grassy wilderness, spotted with shrubby trees. “I’m still waiting for something bad to happen.” Henry looked at the green moon and nodded. “I hope all goes well here.” The people milled around. Some of the passengers gaped at the front landing strut, noting how close to the edge of the cliff it was. Harry finally came out of the ship. He was the last one out. Lex remained inside to recover from his accident. “Where are we going to set up camp?” Basil asked. Henry shrugged. “Over there, perhaps, away from the cliff. I can’t help but feel a little nervous near this cliff.” Travis grunted. “Can’t say I blame you.” Scott nodded. “Yeah, those compactors we have in the cargo hold may just flatten out the ground enough so it isn’t like we’re sleeping on lumps of hard dough.” Henry chuckled. “Perhaps.” The explorers wandered around a bit. Sarah came up to Henry and held him closely, looking at the view out over the ocean. Junior trotted up and wedged himself between his parents. Basil went to the cargo hatch and popped it open. Some stuff came loose during the landing, so it spilled out onto the ground. Basil shook his head and grabbed two tightly-wrapped tents. “I’m going to go set up.” He walked inland. “I’ll take the compactor.” Travis grabbed a small metal case with a handle on it. He set it down, kicked it, and the handle sprung out. It looked a bit like a floor buffer. Travis grabbed the compactor and followed Basil. In three minutes, the ground felt like it was vibrating. Rocks could be heard falling down the side of the cliff. Henry twitched noticeably as Sarah squeezed unexpectedly. Scott sighed. “Fun. My feet are already going numb.” Henry nodded. “Hope the land doesn’t give way.” Gary shook his head. “The cliff isn’t that steep…” “Still…” Gary fumbled around in some paperwork. “Oh, I think you may want to know this…” Henry turned to Gary. “What?” 305

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“The planet…it does a full rotation in approximately thirty-six of our hours.” Henry raised an eyebrow. “Would explain the unusual jet-lag. What else?” “Well…the planet circles the star in approximately 1.5 of our years…but since the length of the day here is 1.5 of our days…. the planet circles the sun in 360 of this planet’s days.” “Precisely, or approximately?” “Almost precisely. There are exactly 36.006 standard hours in a local day, and 360.05 local days in a year. Every nine years, approximately, is a leap-year.” Henry hummed. “That will make it interesting coordinating our schedules here with our representatives on Earth.” Gary nodded. “I’ve been working on that…” Henry nodded. “Ah.” Some more people came to unload the cargo hold. One of the doctor’s assistants grabbed another compactor and went towards Basil and the crew. Sarah frowned in thought. “Hey, Gary, what say we go look at the flora and fauna. See what’s edible around here. I don’t want to have to eat any more of those damn rations.” Gary nodded in total agreement. “I’m with you.” She loosened herself from Henry. “Come on, runt,” she said to the young boy. The three walked inland. Scott came up to Henry, who was staring out towards the afternoon sun, slowly dropping in the sky. “So, want to name this place?” “Landingplace comes to mind.” Henry motioned to the surrounding area. “Something like that. Only makes sense.” “No, no, I mean, the planet.” Henry frowned in thought. “Hadn’t really thought of that.” Scott shouted, “Any opinions on what to name the planet?” The people looked at each other, and talked amongst themselves. Henry said, “I’m open to suggestions.” Harry walked up to the cliff and sat on the ground. He watched the waves roll in to the beach below, then ebb out to the sea again. “In Xanadu, did 306

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Kublai Khan, a stately pleasure dome decree…” “Coleridge,” Henry said. “Somehow, after looking at your book collection back on Earth, it doesn’t surprise me that you know Samuel Taylor Coleridge.” Harry nodded. “Well…how about Xanadu?” Henry thought. “I like it, myself. Actually, I had been thinking of that name for a while. Hmm.” “I remember,” Gary commented. He folded his arms and smirked. Scott shrugged. “For a lack of a better name, why not? I mean, Webster defines Xanadu as ‘a beautifully idyllic place.’ ‘Idyllic’ was the first word that popped into my head…that is, after all the other paranoid thoughts had left.” He smirked. Martin nodded. “Yeah. Xanadu is good.” Scott looked back at the rest of the people. “Any complaints on Xanadu?” One of the people spoke up. “It was a very mediocre movie, but it had a nice soundtrack.” Scott rolled his eyes. “Gah. I meant, for the name of the planet.” “Oh.” The people talked some more. Someone else spoke. “Yeah. That is a nice name.” Henry straightened up. “Very well. We shall name this planet Xanadu.”

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REVELRY XVI Scott pushed the log through the laser planer. It seemed to go extremely slowly. His frown was pretty deep as he pondered why the wood was so particularly tough. Gary walked up to Scott, watching his work. “Have you seen Henry?” Scott silently shook his head. “Not for a while. Last time I saw him was over by the building sites, hammering away at the frame of a cabin.” Gary nodded and walked away, idly listening to the crackling and popping from the planer. He looked over towards the cabins. One was complete, and three more were in progress. He saw Sarah over by the nearest incomplete cabin and walked up to her. “Seen Henry?” Sarah banged a spike into a beam. “He was just here…but said he wanted to take a break. He’s been busting his ass for the past two weeks, trying to keep things organized and collecting lumber for these cabins. In fact, I encouraged him to take a little time to rest.” She waved the hammer towards the cliff. “He may be on the beach. Why?” “I had some questions on his ‘city plan’ here,” Gary said, trying not to smirk too much. “A little overboard, don’t you think?” “He’s a perfectionist,” Sarah coolly said as she drove another spike into the frame of the cabin. “He wants to ensure the comfort and utility of this settlement for all people to come. He doesn’t want us having to raze homes to put in wider roads when we need them, and so forth. I know right now it 308

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seems a bit over the top, but in five…maybe ten years, after the colonization process is in full swing, you’ll see just how necessary all this planning is. And it has to be done now, before we get too far along.” Gary nodded. “It’s all right. I know that already. I just had some questions on his notes, that’s all.” “Oh,” Sarah said, stopping her work to wipe some sweat off of her brow. She smiled wanly. “Sorry. It’s just…well, that look you had.” “Oh.” Gary put a hand to his face. “I’m sorry, too. I guess I got a little bit ahead of myself.” He looked over towards the cliff. “Beach, eh?” “Yes,” she said, starting her work again. “There’s a small depression in the land where it is easier to scale down the cliff to the beach below. Maybe five hundred feet inland.” Bang, bang, bang… “Yeah, I remember that.” Gary walked away from the racket, carrying the notes with him, and walked out towards the cliff. He looked over towards the Explorer…it had been moved from the edge of the precipice, but still seemed perilously close to falling into the ocean. Gary shuddered, thinking about how close everyone came–or could’ve come–to a watery grave. Gary walked up to the edge, careful not to get too close. He looked up and down the coastline. Just a bit inward, he saw Henry. “Uh…” he stammered. He turned to Sarah, probably two hundred feet away. “Uh…” he struggled. He waved a hand frantically. A few people saw him, including Sarah, and stopped their work. They stared at Gary, puzzled; others concerned. “Ss…Sarah?” he finally called out. Sarah frowned, put down her hammer, and walked up to Gary. “What is it?” Gary looked down at the beach, watching. Susan walked up to the edge and looked where Gary had been looking. She immediately cupped her hands to her mouth. “Oh my God.” Harry walked up behind the two observers and saw the sight. “Thieves have stolen his masks,” he quietly said. Gary and Susan turned to the old man. “Come again?” Susan flatly said. Harry just shrugged and smiled. “Sorry. It’s from an old poem. Never mind.” “What do you think brought that on?” Gary finally asked. 309

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“I guess the reality of…well, of us being here has finally sunk into his psyche,” Harry replied. “Can’t say I blame him. It has, after all, been a rough road.” The three continued to watch the display on the beach. A breeze blew in off of the ocean. It seemed to dance… --“Go, go relax,” she says. The wind is calling to him… “Really?” “God, yes…you’ve been driving yourself ragged, which is driving me nuts! Go!” It beckons him… He drops his hammer and walks from the wooden skeleton. Something seems to be lifting him up, just barely. He can hear his footfall, but it doesn’t seem real. The wind…it seems to speak in whispered, hushed tones…he walks down to the depression in the earth, down to the pebbly walkway that empties onto the golden beach. It is a perfect day. He’s seen it once before. He’s seen all of it once before. The strongest vision of pure, natural beauty came to him once, seemingly many lifetimes ago (it was really only three years ago)…and ever since…(the first wave washes over him) The wind caresses him as he steps down on to the beach. He looks up into the sapphire sky…it is filled with bright cumulus clouds, slowly drifting across the afternoon sky. It feels like forever since he last saw an afternoon as perfect as this…when he was a child, and there wasn’t a care in the world, he would run through the fields on such a day…on Earth…but this isn’t Earth…(the second wave crashes) He immediately feels at peace and closes his eyes–a chill seems to overcome him, but it is not cold, nor is it unpleasant. He can feel the powerful warmth of the sun overhead. A deep breath…and the third wave hits. A wave of sheer ecstasy. Is he on the ground? Or drawn into the warmth? A lone bird…something like a gull…calls in the distance. The rumbling of the ocean waves seems to resound in his ears. 310

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Higher…higher… All this time he was right. Through the darkest hours of doubt, he held on to a belief–albeit sometimes tenuously–that there was more to his life than the ‘ordinary.’ Images flash across his mind…some terrible (the world is engulfed in flames)…he can hear the Voice: “You and the people who go with you are the last hope for humankind…” It seems like forever ago. Years–decades–of soul searching, of doubt, of struggle–the questions “What am I?” “Why am I here?” “What am I supposed to be doing?” And everything he has done–everything that has been done to him– has led him to this very moment. The moment he always knew–but how did he know? He asks himself the question, and in a flash, as if the sun has pierced through his eyelids, he sees the secret…the truth behind all his answers… There is laughter from somewhere…all around. At him? Maybe…the answers were always there, but he never saw them. But no…not at him…the laughing phantoms that surround him seem to be rejoicing (the phantoms are me). Everything around him seems to sing– to resound in laughter(they are me). The chorus seems to lift higher into the heavens, out to the stars themselves, lifting him with the sound of pure joy (I am Him)… I was right I was right I am right, fires through him like a bolt of holy lightning. He opens his eyes, and nothing looks the same. A power once unknown to him seems to slam down on him, casting away the dross he’s been carrying for what seems like an eternity…but not power…love? Whose love? It becomes all so clear. He laughs aloud and falls to the ground, rolling in the warm sand. He must envelop himself with this thick feeling…he strips off his clothes, throwing them about. There are people watching–it is of no consequence. They cannot see. And it is all so clear! Laughing, rolling naked in the sand–feeling newborn and clean for the first time in his life. All this time, he was right, and couldn’t see it. He leaps up into the air, as if the gravity of the new world has no effect on him, and dances wildly in the afternoon light. All creation rejoices 311

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with him and dances around him. He runs to and fro along the beach, telling all how much he loves them… -The three people watched Henry roll around in the sand, laughing like a lunatic. Harry gazed thoughtfully at the hysterical man, and something came to his mind. “And all who heard should see them there, and all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, and close your eyes with holy dread, for he on honey-dew hath fed, and drunk the milk of Paradise!’” Gary and Sarah turned concerned gazes towards the man. Harry returned the gaze. There was a fire in his eyes, a certain power–a knowingness that even Gary and Sarah knew must exist. “It’s from another poem,” Harry quietly explained. “‘In Xanadu, did Kublai Khan, a stately pleasure dome decree…where Alph the sacred river ran, through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea.’ Samuel Taylor Coleridge.” “I’ve heard of him,” Sarah said. “That’s actually one of Henry’s favorite poems.” Harry nodded. “You should take to heart what has happened here…what has happened over the past several months.” “You’re saying there’s a parallel?” Gary said with some curiosity. “Absolutely.” Harry swept his arm across the horizon. “This is the pleasure dome.” He gestured to the Explorer. “There is the boat that took us down the river Alph…through the caverns measureless to man.” “Then what’s the sunless sea?” Sarah stated. “Easy, my dear woman,” Harry said with a wicked grin. “It is a sunless sea–dark and full of mystery–but full of stars. And doubts. Truly, those months we spent in space were some of the darkest hours.” Gary and Sarah looked at each other with a bit of alarm. “You’re telling me a man some two hundred years ago, who supposedly wrote that poem while high on opium, saw this take place?” Gary said dubiously. “I’m not saying anything,” Harry said. “I’m only presenting the evidence. Possibilities. Parallels.” He turned and walked away, still grinning a 312

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frighteningly knowing grin. It gave the two other people the shivers. “That man frightens me…but he comforts me, as well,” Sarah quietly stated. Gary could only nod, still clutching himself from an unknown chill. He looked back over the water. “Xanadu…” “I guess the name is more fitting than we realized. Not just something Henry picked out of the blue.” “How long have you known him?” Gary asked, now watching as Henry streaked down the beach, heading in towards the bay. “Since high school.” Gary nodded. “I’ve known him since fifth grade, when he used to live in New Mexico, as briefly as that was. We were friends there…he had some club. Even back then, he still used the name Xanadu. I could never figure out why he had such an obsession…” That’s because he’s touched! Touched by the hand of God! Gary and Susan jumped, looking at each other, startled. They could feel something prickling at the back of their necks…almost as if they were being watched? They turned their gazes to the construction in progress…Harry was there, near the completed cabin. He was staring intently at the two individuals…and then he grinned. =+=

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